That One Time
by WofOZ
Summary: Dean once said I haven't bothered you in over two years... Half way through his four year stint at Stanford, Sam gets some unexpected visitors who have no where else to turn. Will he help? Or will he leave the diaper changing to the Immortals?
1. Chapter 1

Don't own, don't know, wish I did.

For anyone who was following Faith and Family, that story's been put on hold because it wasn't really going anywhere. Maybe I'll pick it up again later. Until then… tell me what you think of this one please!

Thanks

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Sam squinted at his computer screen and studied his words, then with a sigh of content he clicked print. Once the essay on medieval history was printing he stood up and stretched his back. The small apartment just outside campus was quieter then usual. His girlfriend Jess had gone back to her home in Montana for a few days because of a death in the family. Sam had offered to go with her but his beautiful girlfriend had laughed and said that it was a great aunt she barely knew, she was just going for moral support for her parents.

After a fair bit of convincing and realizing he did have a lot of essay writing to get done, Sam had reluctantly stayed home. So for the time being, he was all alone in the apartment and actually enjoying the freedom. It wasn't that he didn't love having Jess around it was just that every now and then it was nice to just listen to your thoughts without being interrupted.

Coarse, with all the research and writing he'd been doing for the entire two days since Jess had left, there wasn't much thinking going on. Jess wasn't due back for another week so Sam decided he'd just take it easy. Get his essays done in the first two days, a plan he'd failed miserably and take the rest of the time to relax.

He still had two essays left and doubted if they'd get done before Jess got home. But he'd gotten one done at least and now Sam felt as though he deserved a little break. He'd start a new tomorrow and just relax for the rest of the night.

After grabbing himself a beer from the fridge he plopped down in front of the tv and started flipping through the channels. Oddly enough he found himself settling on a movie about the supernatural. He rolled his eyes at how completely wrong everything was but couldn't bring himself to change the channel. Watching these movies always made him nostalgic.

Not for the hunt but for the good times that had been few and far apart before he'd left for Stanford. The odd time when he, Dean and their father would sit down and do something a normal family would do. Like Dean's 20th birthday. Most of the time birthday's went by without so much of a grunt between the Winchesters but this particular time Dean had gotten lucky.

They were hold up in some Podunk nowhere town and their hunt had gone surprisingly well. Sam and his father didn't get into one fight and they managed to kill the black dog before it claimed any lives other then a few cows and some sheep. It had been a good hunt and Dean had come in like the hero saving both John and Sam before the black dog made them it's first human victims.

The next morning when Sam and Dean woke up they were shocked to smell bacon and eggs cooking from the stove of their small rented apartment. The both fought and shoved their way to the kitchen where, wonders that be, John Winchester had prepared a feast. He turned around, smiled (and John never smiled anymore) and said,

"Happy Birthday Dean. Now eat up, we're going shopping."

It wasn't much, hell it was a trip to a mall and a two new changes of clothes for all of them but the smile on his brother's face had lasted for days. Particularly when late that birthday night John had pulled up outside the apartment in a big black truck, then tossed the keys to the Impala to his eldest son.

Sam laughed as he remembered the one moment in the great Dean Winchester's life that he had been rendered totally and utterly speechless. And then he had squealed, _actually_ squealed and run outside to his car.

Dean slept in the Impala's back seat that night and the next morning he looked like he'd just gotten laid.

Maybe he had. Sam heard the car pull out late at night and not return till early morning. Figured Dean would get laid the first night of being a car owner.

Sam was brought out of his revelry when a particularly horrified woman let out a scream on the tv. A 'ghost' was hovering above her asking her for her eyes. Rolling his eyes Sam decided to switch off the tv and just relax. He missed the hunt, the adventures he and his family had gotten up to but what he didn't miss was the pain that came with them.

Physically or emotionally. The days when one of them almost died. The nights spent in dirty run down places stitching one another up praying infection didn't set in. The times when Sam and John had fought so loud that sometimes the cops would be called and they'd have to find another crappy apartment to live in.

Life wasn't supposed to be like that. Sam knew that now and didn't regret heading to Stanford even for a minute. But maybe, just maybe, he regretted leaving his family. Just a little.

It wasn't to say Sam was getting out of practice. Over the passed two years he'd accidentally stumbled across a hunt and would quietly deal with it before anyone got hurt. He didn't go looking for it and he'd never go more then a couple hours from his home but if it came up, he wasn't about to pretend it didn't exist. He knew what lurked in the shadows and he also knew how to handle it.

A sudden knock at the apartment door caused Sam to jump. Thinking about the supernatural would do that to him sometimes. People would knock or call and the first thing he would do was dive for the holy water he kept under the bed or grab the silver blade from his dresser drawer.

Tonight however Sam just shook his head and headed for the door. Friends would stop by all the time and he'd been trying to ease off answering the door with a suspicious look in his eye and a weapon behind his back. In his spare time, he'd taken martial arts at the Stanford gym and could handle himself quite well without a weapon. If nothing else, his father's training stuck with him to that day.

As Sam reached for the door he hesitated just a little. It was pouring rain and most of his friends didn't have cars which meant someone would have had to come through the storm to visit him. Most of Sam's friends would sooner tell him to 'F.O.' then actually trek the distance to his apartment.

"Who is it?" Sam asked through the door.

"It's the fucking tooth fairy, open the god damn door." Sam frowned and didn't open the door. The voice sounded a bit familiar but also sounded very high pitch. And as far as Sam could recall, he didn't know any children that could curse like that.

Another pounding on the door brought him out of his wonderment. He looked through the peep hole and saw nothing but the rainy streets but he could hear shuffling. There was definitely a small person outside the door. The question was, what were they doing here alone and at this hour of the night.

Another pounding.

"You're going to rue the day you left me standing out here in the rain Sammy," said the little voice again. This time Sam felt something inside him lurch and somersault, he knew that voice and the way it had said, 'Sammy'…

But he hadn't heard that voice in years not since he was…

Sam opened the door and looked down. His mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out of his head.

"Holy shit," he breathed. There standing in the doorway, looking like a drowned rat, was a mini version of Dean Winchester carrying a blanketed bundle in his arms. The Mini Dean wore Dean's leather jacket which almost reached to the ground and underneath the boy had on what appeared as a gigantic t-shirt that said 'Marines' across the front which was secured around the waist by a belt of shoe laces. Shoes… mini Dean was wearing Dean's boots that clearly must have taken a fair bit of effort to walk around in.

Little Dean did not in the least look amused at the situation.

"Can I come in or are you so keen on your normal life you aren't willing to help you family out?" Dean hissed. Sam shook out of his shocked and stepped out of the way. Mini Dean, looking about the age of seven or eight, trudged into the apartment and all but collapsed into the chair Sam had just vacated.

When he did however the small bundle in his arms started squirming and soon two little arms popped out waving around for attention. Dean looked at the bundle and frowned before looking up at Sam and holding the child out to him.

"You take him," Dean huffed.

Worried for the baby's safety, Sam quickly pulled it into his arms and sat on the couch adjacent the mini version of his brother with out taking his eyes off Dean.

"Dean?" Sam finally found his voice. "It… it is you right?"

"Who the hell else would it be Sammy?" Dean snapped. If Sam hadn't been so completely shocked by the state of his brother, he might actually have laughed at how the little guy huffed and puffed angrily.

"Dean… man what the hell happened? How did you get like this?" Sam asked. Then another thought occurred to him, "And where the hell is dad?" At that question Dean gave him a dirty look as if to say, 'isn't it obvious, moron?' and then he pointed to the bundle in Sam's arms.

Sam, very slowly looked down and was shocked to find two very familiar, very severe brown eyes staring back at him.

"Dad?" he gaped. The baby just blinked at him and worked his tiny jaw before reaching out and grabbing Sam's index finger. Sam looked up incredulously at his little older brother. "Does he… I mean does he know what's happened to him?" he asked.

"How the hell should I know Sam?" Dean spat. "He's to small to talk so there's no way of knowing but I think he's got some sense about this. He doesn't act like a baby would…" Dean paused and threw his small arms up. "Besides _I_ don't even know what happened to us. One day were on the hunt and then bam next morning I wake up and I ain't tall enough to take a piss in the toilet. My only guess is whatever happened, dad was closer to it so he got shrimpified more then I did." Sam took a deep breath and looked down at his baby father in his arms. The babe was still staring at him and clutching his index finger. Sam could only guess what his father's state of mind was but that could wait until later.

"Well what was the hunt about?" Sam asked returning his gaze to his angry brother. It surprised him to see his brother's face morph from one of anger to one of confusion and embarrassment.

"I… I'm not really sure," he replied. And if Sam could have just picked Dean up and coddled him he would have done it right then and there. He just couldn't remember when Dean had ever looked so sweet and innocent before. But Dean would probably sock him one if he tried to even lay a hand on him. Little or no, Sam had no doubt his brother could make him hurt.

"What do you mean you're not really sure?" Sam asked. "Dean, how could you not be sure of what you're hunting?" Dean shrugged off the much to large jacket and kicked off his giant boots before getting to his feet to pace. Sam could see it was indeed their father's big Marine shirt that Dean wore and by the looks of it… nothing else. Sam did his best not to smile at his naked brother swimming in one of their fathers shirts.

"I mean my memory's a little fuzzy on things," Dean replied as he paced. "Dad and I had hold up in the Motel just outside of Wind Falls, Oregon. Some small no where's ville town and… and from there everything is fuzzy. I mean, I know we were there for a few days and I know we were researching something but I can't remember what or why." When Dean finished talking he just sunk right then and there to the floor and let out a deep breath. Sam, being mindful of the baby in his arms got up and went to his brothers aid.

Dean looked up at him with the biggest, weary green eyes Sam had ever seen before in his life and shrugged.

"I didn't know what to do Sam," he admitted quietly. Then he looked away from Sam to no where in particular, "I didn't know where to go and when I tried to call Bobby he told me to go find my mom and stop making prank phone calls. Wouldn't even hear me out." Sam felt bad for his brother and he could see the situation was taking a toll on the small body. He could understand how frustrating something like losing bits of memory and waking up a child might be.

"You were right to come," Sam reassured.

"Wasn't sure you'd let me in," Dean mumbled. Sam was hurt by the words but chose to ignore them for the time being. He stood up and pulled mini Dean to his feet.

"Come on, you look tired and need to dry off," he said. Dean nodded wearily and allowed himself to be led along to the bedroom.

The next morning Sam woke up to a wailing baby.

Wait… baby?

Sam snapped his eyes open and practically leapt off the couch and ran to the bedroom. He had been hoping his late night visitors had all been some horrible nightmare. But upon opening the bedroom door the hope was quickly dismissed. Dean was still slumbering away while the little baby in a makeshift next on the bed next to him tried desperately to get his attention.

Sam quickly and quietly picked up the baby. Not the moment after he did so, did the child stop. Sam looked at his father's baby face and raised an eyebrow.

"You do understand what's going on don't you?" Sam asked quietly. John just looked up at him and blinked but Sam had a feeling there was a lot more wisdom behind those eyes then was allowed to be displayed.

"Sam?" Dean's little boy hair was sticking up in every which direction as he raised his tired head from the pillow.

"Hey Dean, sorry I didn't mean to wake you. Dad uh… dad was trying to get our attention for something," Sam replied. Dean yawned and sat up then looked at the two of them and scrunched up his face.

"Yeah, that's how he let's you know," Dean said. Sam was confused as he looked from John to Dean.

"Let's me know what?" he asked. Dean developed an amused look on his face.

"That he just took a crap in whatever's wrapped around his ass," he replied. And then the smell hit Sam and he nearly gagged when he felt the extra warmth from the baby's small bum. Thankfully Dean had had the sense to double wrap two towels around John's bottom the night before.

"Oh that's just gross," Sam choked. He put the baby back down on the bed and took a step back. "So what do we do?" he asked.

"What do _you_ do dude," Dean shot right back. "I've paid my dues. I had to jury rig the Impala so I could drive it and I had to make sure the cops didn't find an eight year old driving down the highway. It's your turn." Sam looked at his brother and frowned not quite understanding what was being said.

"My turn for what?" he asked. Dean stood up, still wearing one of Sam's gym shirts that hung off his small body like a potato sack.

"To change the baby," he replied. Sam went wide eyed and looked down at his father who looked up at both his sons. For a moment Sam could swear the baby raised an eyebrow at him.

"Dean… no… no way in _hell_ am I changing my father's diaper," Sam blurted out. Dean put on his best sweet little angel face and looked up at Sam.

"But I'm just an eight year old victim Sammy," he replied. Then he leaned over and gave a disgusted sniff at John. "And little Johnny here needs a big strong adult to take care of him." Sam scowled at his brother.

"If you weren't tiny, I'd kick your ass you know that?" he hissed.

"Sammy don't use language in front of the baby!" Dean smirked. After delivery another snarl to his brother Sam picked up his father and headed for the bathroom.

Sixty minutes, two showers and two burned and exorcised towels later, John sat propped up in the living room chair sucking on a piece of cheese good as new. Sam had just emerged from the bathroom to see his father sucking away and Dean munching on a bowl of Lucky Charms.

"We need to go back to Oregon, figure out what in the hell happened to you two," Sam said. Dean looked up at him and then back to the tv where cartoons were keeping him entertained.

"Sure you can take the time away from your precious schooling Sammy?" he asked.

"Don't start with me Dean," Sam shot back. "You came to me for help and I'm trying to do that." Dean clicked off the tv and looked up at his little brother and sighed.

"Yeah I know… and I'm… well… uh…" Sam smiled, the Winchester's had a defect in their brains that simply seemed to render them unable to apologize for anything.

"S'alright Dean," Sam said. Dean looked extremely grateful he didn't have to go on.

"I was thinking Bobby might know something to help us out or maybe Josh but I gave up calling Dad's contacts when Bobby shot me down," Dean admitted. Then he looked down at himself and frowned. "We seriously need to get me something to wear," he muttered. Then he looked over at John, "And diapers."

"Amen to that," Sam snorted. "I'm traumatized for life after what I witnessed in that towel this morning." Dean laughed a childish laugh and shook his head.

"Dad always said don't do anything if you aren't going to do it well," he smirked. Sam joined his brother in laughter but was suddenly cut off when there was a knock at the door. All three Winchester's stilled, even baby John spat out his half gummed soft cheese and glared at the door.

Giving Dean a cautious glance Sam walked over to the door and looked through the peep hole. A Colgate smile that could only be rivaled by his brother greeted Sam's eyes. Sam stepped back from the peep hole and sighed.

"Who is it?" Dean whispered moving protectively toward his father.

"The Major," Sam replied. When his brother raised an eyebrow Sam shook his head and reached for the door handle. "Just play child, Dean."

Greg Masters looked like he could have popped straight out of a recruiting poster for the Army. He was a lean six foot two, had buzzed black hair, sharp blue eyes and a square all American jaw line. Greg was an ROTC student taking pre law just like Sam, it was the reason why everyone called him 'The Major' or 'Major'. The man just looked like an officer with his confident smile and mischievously intelligent eyes.

Sam had first met Greg during a game of football that had started up on campus. There was something about Major that reminded Sam a lot of Dean which was probably the reason why he and Greg had become such good friends.

"You ready?" Greg asked. Sam cocked his head to one side.

"Ready for what?" he asked. Greg laughed and shook his head.

"Come on Winchester, you're not pussying out on me now," he replied. "Remember my uncle? The range? You said you wanted to come with me and fire off a few rounds with your .45." Out of the corner of Sam's eye he saw Dean's little brow furrow but couldn't decide if it was anger or concern.

"Oh right… uh listen Major I uh… well something's kind of… uh… come up and I…" Sam tried to think of a reasonable excuse but never got the chance.

"Horse shit Winchester," Greg smiled. Then he raised an eyebrow, "Or do you have a special someone in there that Jess isn't supposed to know about?"

"NO!" Sam exclaimed. "Christ no!" Without even a warning, Greg shoved Sam out of the way and walked into the apartment. The moment he saw Dean and John he stopped dead.

"Chester you holding out on me?" Greg asked. He looked from the kids back to Sam. "You spawned?" Unseen to Greg, Dean glared a ferocious look at the man but thankfully kept his mouth shut.

"They aren't mine," Sam replied, still trying to think up a logical excuse.

"Then who's are they? You're not some psycho kidnapper are you?" Greg joked. Sam rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to reply but before he did, Dean walked up to him and clutched his pant leg putting on his best little kid impersonation.

"Uncle Sam is taking care of us for a few days," Dean said. Greg looked down at him and a look of recognition came across his face.

"Oh these are your brother's kids huh?" he asked. Sam nodded, relieved that Greg seemed to ready to accept the story.

"Yeah, my brother got into an accident and needs me to look after them for a bit," Sam added.

"Bang up job you're doing of it Chester," Greg snorted. "You forget to pack them clothes?" Sam blushed slightly realizing how bad it looked that the two children in his care were dressed in towels and large t-shirts.

"I set our stuff on fire last night," Dean piped up. He put on a twisted smile as he looked at Greg. "I like to burn things… wanna see?" Sam gave Dean a death glare as if to say, 'don't make things worse,' to which Dean replied with a look of, 'who me?' Greg however thought it was the funniest thing in the world as he laughed and knelt down in front of Dean.

"So you got a name runt or do I just call you Pyro?" he asked. Both Sam and Dean were stunned for a moment that Greg had taken the comment so well.

"Uh…" Dean replied. "I'm Dean, same as my dad. That's my uh… brother John."

"Well Dean, how about we go get you some real clothes before Chester here starts thinking it'd be a good idea to just let you run around naked?" Greg asked. Once again Sam was shocked, he had no idea Greg of all people would know anything in the least about children.

"Um… yeah sure," Dean replied. Greg stood up and walked over to John. In one scoop he picked up the baby and held him expertly in his arms. Sam just gaped.

"When the hell did you learn anything about kids Major?" he blurted out. Greg suddenly frowned.

"Sam, don't swear in front of the kids," he replied. Dean laughed and Sam had to restrain himself from smacking his brother. "And besides, I was the oldest of six kids not to mention two of my younger sisters have runts of their own. I'm great with kids… you have to be if you want to pick up hot chicks." Sam smacked his forehead as the look of pure delight crossed Dean's face.

"Uncle Sam's a boring guy," Dean piped up. "Doesn't know the true potential of having a kid like me around." At this Greg raised an eyebrow at Dean but then smiled.

"You and I are going to get along just fine smart guy," he said. Then with John in his arms he headed for the door. "Come on Sam, let's get these kids taken care of."

When Sam was sure Greg was out of ear shot he glowered at Dean.

"What the hell are you doing? I was going to get rid of him," Sam snapped. Dean shrugged pulling on his leather jacket.

"We need some help with Dad, Sammy," he replied. "And I need clothes that fit. We get picked up by Child Services we are done for okay? This guy seems to know what he's doing so I say we let him for today. Then you me and dad head back to Oregon and sort things out. Besides… at least now you can get _him_ to change dad." Sam groaned as he followed his brother out the door, this could not get any worse.

The headed to a nearby mall and after a quick clothing stop, Dean and John were looking much more… well kid like then they had before. Dean wore a plain white t-shirt with jean overalls, red sneakers and a cammo patterned kids jacket. John was now the proud owner of a one piece sleeper and thankfully, a nice fresh diaper. The diapers had been a god send in Sam's eyes and in some way, Greg had been as well. Greg was so natural with kids that Sam could have sworn Dean was actually enjoying the attention of being a child.

Soon after a quick lunch at McDonalds they headed back to Sam's apartment. Just as they returned to the living room Greg snapped his fingers.

"Damn forgot something… I'll be right back," he said. He jogged out the door and Sam turned to Dean with John in his arms.

"I don't think you've ever had a chance to actually be a normal kid Dean," he smiled. Dean scowled at him.

"This ain't normal Sammy," he replied. "I'm twenty four years old and I had to order a kids meal today."

"Could be worse," Sam shrugged. Dean threw his small hands up in the air.

"How could this be worse Sam?" he exclaimed. "I've hunted demons, poltergeists, witches, warlocks, skin walkers, black dogs, ware wolves… almost everything out there supernatural I've killed and nothing like this has ever, _ever_ happened before! Dad's a baby, I'm a kid and barely have the strength to lift a shot gun and I can't even remember what the hell we were hunting when this happened!"

"I know Dean," Sam sighed. "And well figure this out, we always do okay? Now let's just…" At that moment Sam turned looked up and paled. Greg stood in the door way with a bag dangling from his hands and looking like someone had just put a few thousand volts through him. Dean snapped his head toward the door and went wide eyed.

"How much did you hear?" Dean snapped. At the moment, the middle Winchester probably forgot that he was an eight year old kid.

"Twenty four?" Greg asked. Sam quickly walked over to his friend and closed the door behind him.

"Greg there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this," he urged.

"Yeah Greg," Dean said. "I uh… I watch a lot of tv and I…" Greg shook his head and slumped into a chair before looking to baby John and then to Sam and Dean. Sam could see a turmoil look on his friends face but couldn't decipher what the emotions were.

"We were just joking around Major," Sam tried. "It wasn't what it sounded like…"

"No?" Greg said sitting up. His face was unreadable. "Demons, werewolves… poltergeists, Chester?" Sam suddenly realized that his little slice of normal was being stripped away from him and tried to think desperately for something, anything to save his friendship. Greg stood up and walked over to the kitchen doorway with his back to the Winchesters.

"Greg I…" Sam started but couldn't think of an excuse. He looked at Dean for help but Dean just shrugged as though it really didn't matter to him. Looking back up Sam saw his friend was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We need to talk Winchester," Greg's low voice finally said. Sam raised an eyebrow, beside him Dean cocked his head slightly.

"Talk?" Sam echoed. His friend turned around with a surprisingly calm look.

"Yeah," he said. "If that really is your dad and brother, chances are they ran across a forest fairy otherwise known as an Inshara…" Sam's eyes were almost as wide as Deans as Greg calmly walked over and took John from Sam's arms. "…and if they did, we're going to have to track down the exact Inshara they pissed off before the next full moon." Sam felt his knees go weak but somehow managed to stay on his feet.

"Why next full moon?" Dean asked. Greg looked at him.

"Because small fry, after that, you're going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe," he replied. "Can't reverse what's permanent." Finally Sam seemed to find his voice as he collapsed back into a chair.

"You're a hunter?" he breathed. Greg took a deep breath and looked at John in his arms.

"Not a hunter…" he said quietly. Then he looked back up to the brothers, "…the hunted." With that, the little bundle in Greg's arms promptly bopped him in the nose with a tiny angry fist.

Dean's reflexes seemed to be as fast as they always were as he whipped a small blade out from behind his back and raised it toward Greg. Sam tensed and stepped protectively in front of his brother.

"Hand over John or I make your death slow and painful," Dean snarled. Greg simply rolled his eyes and weaved around another tiny fisted punch before placing John down on the couch.

"Sam listen to me," Greg said. His voice was low and pleading. "I'm not dangerous. You know me, I'd never hurt anyone."

"I don't know what the hell you are," Sam replied. "So why don't you tell me before I let Dean hear show you just how good he is with that knife." Greg sighed.

"He wouldn't be able to kill me anyway," he replied. Then he shook his head, "believe me I've tried… been trying since I figured it out. Sam… I was born in 1778." This time Dean surprisingly took a step behind Sam.

"A Shtriga?" he asked warily. Sam cast a confused glance, he'd never head of a 'Shtriga' before but he was pretty sure he didn't like the sound of it. Especially the way his brother seemed to cower at the very name.

"No," Greg said shaking his head. "An immortal," he replied.

"Immortal?" Sam asked. Even baby John turned his pudgy little head to one side curiously. Greg nodded and then pulled out a pen from his pocket.

"I've been through so much history it would make your head spin. I learned a long time ago that hunters see that as a threat," he replied.

"I thought you said your parents were dead," Sam remembered. Greg uncapped the pen and looked at it.

"Hunters back in the 1842 found out about them, put them in an iron box and dropped them into the deepest parts of the pacific," he explained. "They are dead and then they live and then they die and then they live and then they… well you get the point. I never knew where they were dropped so I couldn't try and save them."

"I'm a little confused here," Dean said shaking his small head. "You can't die?"

"I can die," Greg replied. "And I have… I can't tell you how many times and how many different ways one of you hunters have killed me." Sam's world had been upside down… apparently his brother and father being miniaturized could be topped in the category of 'what's worse.'

"So, what?" Dean asked, ever the inquisitive fellow, "You just… come back to life?" he asked.

"Yep," Greg nodded. Then without so much as a warning, jammed the pen in his hand right into his carotid artery and pulled it out. The man was dead before Sam had time to even process what had happened.

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TBC…

So, don't know if Stanford even has ROTC, don't know how it works in the States. Hope I'll be forgiven for assuming it does!

Read and review please. Tell me if this story is worth continuing with.

Thanks!


	2. What's a Winchester To Do?

Don't own, don't know, wish I did.

Onto the second chapter, enjoy!

Thanks

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"Kind of funny isn't it?" Sam looked up from the road map that was splayed out on the hood of the Impala. It was just about midnight and they had stopped at a small dinner along the highway.

Earlier that day, just as Sam was trying to figure out what to tell the cops about the body on his floor. The body sucked in a deep breath and proceeded to apologize for getting blood on the carpet.

John had started wailing when the body came into his line of sight and it didn't take a genius to figure out the eldest Winchester was pissed off and curious all at once. Dean had calmed their father down while still looking a bit pale himself. It made sense, they'd never come up against something supernatural that they couldn't kill. Sure there were some pretty tenacious demons and spirits but nothing that would just come back to life no matter what you tried.

Despite considerable effort by both John and Dean to stay awake on their journey to Oregon, both small bodies fell victim to their ages natural tendencies and had been out like a light since ten thirty.

Which left Sam and Greg to find their way along the roads to Oregon and hopefully to the motel where Dean and his father had been staying. Part of Sam hadn't wanted to leave the normalcy of Stanford but finding out his friend wasn't all that human kind of ruined the safety bubble. Instead, bewildered and confused, Sam hadn't really thought about it when Greg left his apartment only to appear an hour later with a overnight bag and an offer to help.

Sam had protested and so had John, in his own way but it was Dean who said if Greg knew what might have happened, he was their best shot at the moment. So as always, even though Dean was small enough to throw in the trunk if he got out of line, Sam listened to his big brother and allowed his friend to come. After all, it wasn't like Greg could be in any danger. The man couldn't stay dead.

"What is?" Sam asked. Greg shrugged, as he did so Sam just caught sight of the small fading scar from where the pen had been thrust in earlier.

"This, us…" Greg replied. "I went out of my way to avoid hunters and anything suspicious. I've moved around to so many places and speak twelve different languages just so I could fit in where I went. I've tried so hard since my parents were taken to be normal, to live normally only to make friends with a hunter."

"I'm not a hunter," Sam said quickly. When Greg looked at him curiously Sam sighed and continued, "Not anymore anyway. I just… I wanted normal too and my father and brother weren't going to give that to me. I had to leave them. Believe me, finding out my ROTC, all American, Joe College friend is really part of the life I left behind is no picnic for me either."

"Your dad put up quite a fuss earlier," Greg continued. "Don't think he likes me much." Sam snorted and tossed his head back.

"My dad doesn't like what he doesn't understand," Sam replied. Then he looked back at the map. "A prime example would be the fact that he hates me." They stood in silence for a few more minutes while Sam studied the map.

"That woman that was killed just off campus six months ago…" Greg suddenly said. Sam looked up from the map trying not to betray himself by looking guilty. "…The one the police say was shot through the heart with a silver tipped cross bow arrow. That was you wasn't it?" Sam cleared his throat and looked toward the ground.

"She was killing people," he said quietly. "I had no choice."

"No you didn't," Greg replied. Sam looked up at him surprised.

"You're okay with that?" he asked.

"Sam," Greg smiled as if offended. "I've lived for hundreds of years. I've seen everything natural and supernatural. I even ran with a pack of Vampires back in late 18oo's because drinking my blood kept them from going after innocent people. I may not like the idea of hunting but I'm all for kicking the shit out of the evil supernatural that makes the rest of us look bad."

"Vampires?" Sam asked curiously. His father had told him long ago that such creatures were extinct. Greg nodded nonchalantly.

"Yep," he replied. "But in 1904 the villagers that lived close to our layer decided we had to go. Came in middle of the day chopping like we'd been snacking on their first borns all night. Let me tell you something, getting your head chopped off is _not_ an experience I'd like to repeat." Sam didn't know whether to be sick or laugh, so instead he just shook his head and started folding the map.

"We should get back on the road," he said. "You wanna go get us some coffee and I'll wait here?" Greg nodded and pushed himself up off the hood of the car. He'd only gone a few steps when he cursed and turned around.

"I gotta make a phone call too," he said. "I forgot to tell my Colonel I wont be around for a few days." Sam laughed.

"Your immortal dude, what does it matter?" he asked.

"Hey, I may be immortal but that doesn't mean I want one of my death experiences to be suicide by pushups," Greg replied. "I'll be right back." Sam nodded and watched as his friend trotted off into the small 24 hour diner. He shook his head, Greg had always seemed so normal. It was also slightly unnerving to think that long after Sam and his family were dead and gone, Greg would still be running around, tossing the football like he'd always done.

When the car door squeaked open Sam turned away from the diner to find Dean sleepily climbing out and walking over to him. A little more awake by the crisp night air, little Dean looked around himself.

"Where's your friend?" he exaggerated. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Getting coffee," he replied. "You should go sleep more, you look tired."

"I'm twenty four dude," Dean snarled. Then he looked down at himself and scowled. "I am twenty four damn it." Sam didn't know if his brother was cursing at him or at the small body that he was staring at.

"We'll fix this Dean," Sam said. His brother looked up at him, his small childish face still creased in a sad pout.

"I know I just… man this little stuff really sucks. How the hell did we ever manage hunting when we were this small?" he huffed.

"Easy," Sam smiled brightly. "My big brother saved my ass every time I needed it." Dean's gaze flickered with a small bit of amusement at the situation and he shook his head.

"I'm never going to live this down am I?" he sighed.

"Nope," Sam said looking off into the distance, "I've been snapping pictures while you and Dad slept." Dean let out a growl and launched his tiny body toward Sam's pocket where the cell camera was hiding. But with in seconds, Sam had lifted his brother into the air, flipped him upside down and held him in a bear hug.

"Put me down Sammy or so help me…" Dean squeaked.

"You'll what Dean? Bite my ankles?" Sam laughed. His brother squirmed and squirmed but was unable to break free.

"Excuse me." Both Sam and Dean froze when an unfamiliar voice spoke up behind them. Sam turned around, still holding his upside down brother and looked at the woman that seemed to have appeared out of no where.

She was on the shorter end of average height and had raven hair that was braided neatly. Her gray eyes seemed to twinkle with curiosity and childishness while her figure had 'all the right curves in all the right places.' Not that Sam was mentally quoting his older brother or anything. The woman was gorgeous.

"Can we help you?" Dean said. If Sam hadn't been so entranced by the woman's beauty he would have laughed. Even upside down Dean had a fierce look on his flushed cheeks and was doing his best to fold his arms angrily across his chest. The woman laughed and looked at Dean.

"I'm not sure that's how you're supposed to carry a child," she smiled. Sam quickly put his brother down and pretended to dust Dean off. Dean in turn scowled at him and tried to bite his hand.

"We're just playing around Ms…?" Sam asked.

"Sorry, don't give my name out to total strangers especially this late at night," she said. "Just wondering if you boys needed some help, I saw you looking at your map there and well I know these parts real well. Directions?" Sam smiled and shook his head.

"Uh no thanks, we're good. I appreciate it though," he replied. The woman, who's smile had yet to fade gave a nod and then knelt in front of Dean.

"You look like a smart little guy," she said. "Have you been helping your daddy navigate?" There was something about the way the woman spoke that sent a bit of a chill down Sam's spine. Without thinking, he stepped forward and pushed Dean away from her slightly. The woman stood and looked Sam in the eye. There was something to her gaze that suddenly made same feel uncomfortable.

"Thanks but we really do need to get going," he said again. The woman nodded and turned toward the parking lot.

"Have a good trip," she smiled. "Where ever you're going." Sam watched her until she disappeared amongst the other cars in the lot. When he was sure she was gone Sam looked at Dean who's eyes seemed all of a sudden very distant.

"Dean?" Sam asked. When he got no response he crotched down to eye level and grabbed his brother's shoulders. "Hey, Dean are you with me?" he asked. After a few more tense moments his brother blinked a few times and then focused on Sam.

"Sammy?" he asked.

"Yeah, Dean… are you alright?" Sam asked. Dean raised a small hand to his forehead, paused and ran it through his hair.

"Yeah, yeah I uh… think so… where are we going again?" he asked. Sam frowned.

"Oregon, Dean, remember?" he replied. "We gotta figure out what happened to you and Dad." For a moment it looked as though Dean honestly didn't have any recollection of what was going on. But then he looked down at his small body again and a grim look came over his face.

"Yeah, right," he said quietly. He looked up at Sam and frowned. "What just happened?"

"I don't know man," Sam said. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just… tired," Dean replied. As if to accent this, he let out a huge yawn and nearly toppled into Sam's arms.

"Whoa, okay… why don't you get back in the car and get some sleep?" Dean nodded and climbed back into the car next to their father.

Just as Greg approached the car with coffee's in hand, Dean was once again out like a light. Sam frowned, that woman had unnerved him for some reason but what worried him more was his brother's sudden lack of focus.

"Something wrong?" Greg asked. Sam took one of the coffees from him and shook his head.

"Besides the obvious?" he replied. "No not really. This weird chick just came up and asked us if we needed directions. A little creepy if you ask me."

"Was she hot?" Greg asked. Sam rolled his eyes and reached for the drivers side door.

"You're insufferable," he shot back. Greg just laughed but reached for his own door handle only to freeze and pale. When Sam looked up from the door and saw his friend he immediately became concerned. "Major? Dude what is it?" he asked. Greg placed his coffee on the hood of the car and walked right to the spot where the woman had been standing near Dean and knelt down. Because his back was to Sam there was no way of knowing what the man was looking at.

"Did the woman have gray eyes and black hair?" Greg asked. Sam felt his stomach lurch in concern.

"How did you know that?" he asked. Greg ran his fingers along the pavement then stood up and sniffed his fingers. When his head ripped away from them he spun around to Sam and shoved the offending hand at him.

"What does that smell like to you?" he asked. Sam took only the smallest of sniffs but was violently overcome by the strong smell of an odd mixture of pine and sulfur.

"Holy…" Sam coughed as he backed away from his friends hand. "Smells like a spirit went a few rounds with a pine tree," he replied. "Gawd… that smells awful! What does it mean?" Greg was eyeing the parking lot very carefully as he backed toward the car and opened his door.

"It means things just got a hell of a lot more complicated," he replied. "Get in, we have to get out of here." There was nothing that really forced Sam to trust the immortal but it was his instincts that were telling him pretty much the same thing. They hopped in the Impala and second later, tore out of the parking lot.

On the side of the road, Sam failed to see the gray eyed woman smirking wickedly as a small baseball size green light hovered over her shoulder.

"You'll soon learn Winchesters," the woman smirked. "That no one crosses me and gets away with it." Then she turned to the woods and vanished. The green light hung back a little and then it too was no more.

When they finally passed the sign for Wind Falls, Oregon, late the next day, Sam was worried they'd have to scour the small town looking for the right motel. Since the run in with that woman at the diner the night before Dean seemed to have forgotten almost everything about the hunt he had been on with his father. This worried Sam but only made him more determined to figure out what was going on with his family. Greg had been on edge as well. He'd yet to explain what exactly that disgusting sent had meant and what it had to do with the woman they'd met but Sam agreed with the sentiment that they needed to find John and Dean's motel first.

"Hey!" Dean piped up from the back seat. Sam glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Dad's truck! We left the truck in the parking lot!"

At least something seemed to be going their way as not moments later they passed by a shabby looking motel where their father's black truck waited for it's owners return.

"Yahtze," Greg smiled. They pulled into the parking lot and after digging through Dean's leather jacket, found a room key.

The motel room was as expected, messy, unkempt, food wrappers here and there amongst newspaper articles and post its of the supernatural pinned all over the wall. Dean carried John through the door first while Sam entered right behind him. It wasn't until Sam realized Greg hadn't followed them did he turn around.

Greg was standing in the doorway, looking at his feet. Sam followed the gaze and saw a line of salt across the threshold. Years of having doors and windows salted around you had taught Sam to always step over the threshold rather then shuffle through it. He hadn't even realized the salt was there until his friend had brought it to his attention.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked from the far bed where he sat with John in his lap. Greg looked up and then back down again.

"You going to leave me out here or actually get this out of my way?" he asked. Sam looked down at the salt again then up and raised an eyebrow.

"You can't cross a line of salt?" he asked. "But I salted my apartment all the time."

"You never salted the front door Chester," Greg spat. Sam thought back to his and Jess's apartment. Before Jess moved in, he'd salted everything but after she moved in he realized there was no way he could really explain the ritual. So instead he settled for inconspicuously salting the bedroom doors and windows at night.

"He should have," Dean snapped from behind him. Sam rolled his eyes then dragged his foot through the salt breaking the line. Greg took a deep breath and stepped gingerly over the broken line.

Once he was in Sam fixed the line and turned to the room's occupants.

"You know you're keeping me prisoner by fixing that line," Greg said. "Careful I might take offense." Sam just gave him a look before sitting next to his family.

Dean was looking weary as was baby John.

"You two okay?" he asked. Dean gave a tired nod while baby John gurgled slightly. "Very articulate Dad," Sam sighed. In response, the sudden aroma of poop filled the immediate area and a glint that was dangerously close to pleased and amused filled his father's eyes.

"Nice Sam, way to make Dad shit his Huggies," Dean replied. He picked the baby up, grabbed a diaper and headed to the bathroom. "Talk amongst yourselves," he said tiredly.

When the bathroom door was closed, Greg finally spoke up.

"Chester your brother and dad maybe be okay now but they wont be for long," he said. Sam frowned and took up a seat across from the immortal.

"Tell me what you know Major," he urged.

"That smell we found last night? The strong pine was classic of a Inshara to leave behind but having it mixed in with sulfur means bad news. I've been thinking about this a lot and I couldn't think of what would piss off an Inshara bad enough that they'd use their powers on you dad and brother. I mean Inshara's are simple little buggers that are more playful and mischievous then anything. They can change humans into anything they want really. But this Inshara shrunk your family down to kids so now we've got something else to consider. Something wicked could be controlling an Inshara to do it's bidding… something like a Ragnakta," Greg explained.

Sam snapped his head back and slapped his forehead. He should have recognized it sooner and it bothered him that Dean hadn't recognized it as well. The fatigue, the trouble remembering things, it all made sense. A Ragnakta was a witch of sorts that gained strength by stealing memories from children. Ragnakta's were also known to have gray eyes and black hair.

"But when has a Ragnakta ever been so selective?" Sam asked. "Most of the time they just take all the kids got and…" Sam swallowed hard, "…and leave them for dead."

"I know," Greg nodded. "Which is why daddy and brother Chester must have done something screwed up something royally fierce if they've got a personal Ragnakta who's willing to trap a Inshara and track you family through another state." Sam sighed and lowered his head.

"Great," he mumbled. With John to small to talk and Dean barely remembering the name Wind Falls, anymore they'd have to back track everything to find out just what had happened. And do all of this before Dean and John slowly had the life drained out of them through their memories.

"Next full moon is soon," Greg added to the pile. Sam looked up at the man who was flipping through papers on the motel room desk.

"How the hell do you know all this?" Sam asked in frustration. He'd never even heard of an Inshara and still wasn't all that sure they existed. They sounded like tricksters that lived in forests. Greg looked up from the papers he was glancing at and leaned back.

"You live as long as I do Chester and you learn a thing or two about your supernatural brethren… good or bad," he replied.

"Man would my dad love to talk to you," Sam said. His father's life mission seemed to be to find out everything and anything about the supernatural. Being able to talk to someone who'd lived through it all and learned it all would be a gold mine for the old man… or little baby as the immediate case were.

"Sorry Winchester, I don't do lessons on the supernatural," Greg replied. "Attracts more attention then I'm willing to have on myself."

"Says the man who wrote a history paper on 'why Abe Lincoln was a pompous ass,'" Sam smiled. He'd been confused several months ago when his friend walked into their elective class, flashed the paper's title at Sam and then handed it in to the professor.

"A paper that I got eighty five percent on, I might add, because of the historical accuracy," Greg smiled mischievously. "Besides Abe was a pompous ass, I baby sat that little douche bag and he gave me nothing but grief." Sam just shook his head.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," he replied.

"I have to admit Sam… it's kinda nice sharing the truth with someone I trust," the Immortal admitted. Sam looked at his friend and thought about the comment. He thought about how relieved he felt when Greg hadn't run away screaming when he heard Sam talking about the supernatural.

"Same here," Sam smiled. A sudden thud from the bathroom followed by the high pitch wailing of a baby, had both men on their feet instantly. Sam threw open the bathroom door and was horrified to find Dean struggling to stand. It looked like the struggling wailing John Winchester was trying his hardest to get to boy but was failing miserably. Greg quickly picked up John quieting the babe, while Sam rushed to Dean sides and helped him stand.

"Dean? Hey Dean can you hear me? Are you alright?" he asked. Dean seemed dazed for a moment but then shook his head and looked up at his brother.

"Sam? Wha… what are you doing here?" he asked. Then he eyed Greg suspiciously and the baby in his arms. "And who's the guy with the kid?" Sam felt his heart constrict with concern as he looked from Greg back to Dean.

"Dean… what's the last thing you remember?" Sam asked. Dean looked at him for a moment before his eyes grew wide and he looked down.

"Shit," he squeaked. When he looked up again at Sam there was a confusion in Dean's eyes that had never been seen before. "Sam… what the hell happened to me? And where's dad?" he asked. At that, Greg crouched down and showed the little baby face to Dean.

For several moments it appeared as though Dean didn't get it. He looked at the baby, then to Greg, then to Sam and then started the process over again. He did this about four times before finally pointing to the baby.

"Dad?" he asked looking at Sam. Sam nodded. "Oh…" Dean said unemotionally, he turned his little head to the floor and then looked up at Sam, "…S'cuse me for a sec," he said. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed into Sam's arms like a rag doll.

Under normal circumstances Sam would have laughed that his brother had actually just fainted in his arms. But the fact that Dean seemed to now have no recollection of even starting the hunt, the concern was to huge. A deep routed fear stuck itself in Sam's gut and he knew one thing was for damn sure, he was in _way_ over his head.

When Dean snuggled a little in Sam's arms it was clear what he had to do.

Get help and get help fast.

Sam quickly carried Dean to one of the beds in the motel room and then whipped out his cell phone.

"Who you calling?" Greg asked. He gently laid John on the other bed, propping the baby up with some pillows.

"A friend," Sam replied. After three of the longest rings Sam have ever experienced in his life the old hunter picked up.

"'Lo?" said a gruff voice.

"Bobby? It's Sam Winchester." There was a pause and then,

"I ain't no mediator Sam. Your dad gets uppity about you at college I ain't got nothing to do with it, y'understand? Let your brother handle it," Bobby replied. Sam wondered what exactly had transpired between the three hunters that he had been blissfully unaware of during his time at Stanford. But that could be dealt with later.

"That's not why I'm calling Bobby," Sam replied. "My dad and Dean ran into a problem on there most recent hunt and I… uh… I need help."

"They dead?" Bobby's quick and gruff reply.

"No sir," Sam answered.

"They hurt?"

"Not exactly." Another pause and then a long drawn out sigh.

"I know they were headed to Wind Falls, Oregon. Something 'bout missing persons… What kind of problem they run into?"

"Well…" Sam said looking at the motel beds and their occupants, "…It's definitely a small problem."

"Then what the hell you need my help for?" Bobby huffed.

"No Bobby, when I say small, I mean small… tiny, young… Bobby Dean and Dad are kids," Sam explained.

"You mean, few days ago when some kid called claimin' to be your brother?"

"That was him."

"Inshara," Bobby sighed. It bothered Sam that he seemed to be so out of touch with his supernatural know how. He'd have to study up when he got back to Stanford.

"That's what my friend thought," Sam replied.

"Your friend?" Bobby asked. Sam looked up at Greg, who cocked his head and shot a curious glance at him. How was Sam going to explain Greg to Bobby over the phone?

"Uh… I'll explain everything later. Do you think you could come help us out?" Sam asked.

"Well having some fodder against that wind bag John would definitely be a plus… I'll fly out, be there as soon as I can," Bobby replied. Sam let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding and nodded.

"Thanks Bobby," he sighed.

"Don't thank me yet." With a click Sam returned his cellphone to his pocket and looked down at his brother on the bed. Dean rolled onto his stomach and moaned.

"No Daddy I don't wanna go to school today," he mumbled. Sam smacked his forehead as Greg started laughing.

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TBC…

Yeah the Inshara and Ragnakta are totally of my own creation. Stay tuned to see if Dean and John will be okay and if Bobby can help. And what exactly did the Winchesters do to make that Ragnakta so damn angry?

Read and review please!


	3. Dog Whistle?

Don't own, don't know… although I'd kill to have a PA job on the Supernatural set. Jensen's personal assistant perhaps?? LOL

Enjoy Chapter Three…

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The night had been long an tiring. Every hour or so, John would be up and pooping while Dean, the small kid apparently required an entire bed to himself. Wonders that be, Dean, the smallest person in the room, just so happened to be a kicker. Sam and Greg had taken turns alternating between Dean and John but by the wee hours of the morning, Greg slept on the floor, Sam sat up bleary eyed on the bed next to John and Dean, limbs akimbo, jerked and kicked in his sleep on the opposite bed.

One tiny eight year old body for an entire double bed and worse, by the eased look on Dean's face… he was enjoying his space.

At some point Sam must have drifted off because when he woke up mid day sun was shining through the curtains and he was alone. At first Sam's fatigued mind tried to figure out how the hell Jess had gotten him drunk enough to spend a night in a shitty motel room but then recent events came rushing back to him.

At first Sam was ready to panic at realizing he was the sole occupant of the room but just as he leapt to his feet to go searching a paper tacked to the door got his attention. He wondered over to it and snatched it off the door,

_Sam, _

_The little ones and I have gone for breakfast. Also decided to give you a chance to sleep in. Cause dude, you look like shit. We'll be back soon._

_Greg._

Sam put the letter on a nearby table and surveyed the room around him. Pictures and maps and newspaper articles on the wall. All telling a story of missing people and John and Jane Doe kids being found in nearby caves. After going over almost everything in the room Sam came to the conclusion that his father and brother had figured it out. Somehow the Ragnakta was working with an Inshara. Together the two were taking adults, changing them into children and then the Ragnakta would feed off them. By the looks of things, it had been going on for the past ten years. For one month each year roughly three or four hikers would go missing from the woods. After the full moon three or four children's bodies would be found all over the state of Oregon.

No one put two and two together because hikers got lost sometimes and the children's bodies were spread out. That and the state police weren't looking for child hikers.

If it wasn't such an evil plan, Sam would have actually been impressed that the Ragnakta had gotten away with it for so long. She had an endless supply of feeding and the Inshara would get to perform his tricks all he wanted.

But something about all this still didn't make sense to Sam. The missing link as it were. His brother and Dad appeared to be half transformed. Deans memories had been left for the most part in tact but were slowly seeping away like a sieve. And John was a tiny baby, much to young for the Ragnakta's preference in victims. Unfortunately there was no way of telling what John's mental state was but Sam could only guess he was just confused as Dean.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. It was like, his family had gotten caught in the cross fire of the Ragnakta and Inshara's plans but managed to get themselves to safety before those plans came to fruition. Problem was, that didn't explain why the Ragnakta had followed them, nor did it explain how exactly she was still sucking Dean's memories.

Leave it to a Winchester to piss of something so badly it had gone the extra mile just to torture them.

Just then the door opened, Sam looked up as Greg walked in, John in hand and Dean shuffling in behind. When Greg saw him awake he smiled and raised a bag.

"Hey Chester, brought you some food," he offered. Sam nodded his thanks as the food was placed in front of him then turned to Dean.

"Hey Dean, y'alright?" he asked. The eight year old glared at him then walked into the bathroom and slammed the door. Sam looked up at Greg curiously.

"He's just upset because I didn't buy him ice cream for breakfast," he replied.

"EAT SHIT MASTERS!" came a hollered response from bathroom. Greg laughed then plopped himself and John down in front of Sam.

"He's frustrated," Greg replied. "He accepts the story about what happened to him because he still knows about the paranormal but it's pissing him off that he can't remember bits and pieces." Sam sighed.

"His memory is Swiss cheese," he added. "Dean gets pissy when he doesn't have all the answers."

"I DO NOT!" Came another yell through the bathroom door. Sam just shook his head.

"On the plus side, I think I've got a possible location for this Inshara," Sam said pointing to one of the maps he'd looked at earlier. "Looks like Dad and Dean headed out to an old mine shaft about an hour from here." Greg stood up and walked over to the map to look at it adjusting John to allow a free hand. Oddly at that moment Sam couldn't help but be amazed by how easily Greg was carrying John. It was almost like the child was a part of his hip that he had been carrying all his life.

After a moment of watching John contently sit on the man's hip, Greg looked up from the map and caught Sam's eye.

"What?" he asked. Sam shook his head and turned away, not realizing he'd been staring.

"I don't think I've ever seen a straight man carry a child as well as you do," Sam laughed.

"Give it a couple hundred years of practice, I'm sure you'll look just as good," Greg replied. Sam winced slightly, 'right,' he thought, 'the whole immortal thing.'

"Doesn't your life every get lonely?" Sam asked suddenly. Greg nearly dropped the map but never even flinched with baby in his other arm. Instead he placed John down gently on the bed and returned to the chair across from Sam.

"Let me ask you something, what if, god forbid, Jess were to leave you tomorrow?" Greg asked. "What would you do?"

"Jess wouldn't do that," Sam smiled confidently. Greg rolled his eyes and waved Sam off before continuing.

"No, but lets say for the sake of this conversation, she did," he said. "What would you do? How would you feel?" Sam pondered the question for a moment then shrugged.

"Hurt I guess," he replied. "Probably would want to get away for a while, maybe even head back to hunting for a bit." Realizing what he just said he prayed that Dean wasn't that good a listener. Glancing toward the bathroom door and hearing nothing, Sam looked back to Greg.

"Exactly," the Immortal replied. "You'd fall back on your instinct and due what comes naturally to you."

"What does that have to do with you having a lonely life?" Sam asked. Greg sat forward and pulled out a hamburger from the food sack in front of them.

"Maybe for the first few decades I was lonely, no one to really confide in because I was worried of what they'd think and it hurt. But then I turned to my instinct and started moving around, different countries, different people… Haven't been lonely a day since because I did what came naturally to me, make friends, move after a few years and keep the memories of those people exactly how they were when I left them," he explained. He started to open up the wrapper on the burger and take out the pickles with a look of disgust. "Those people maybe long since old gray and dead but in my mind Rose will always be that classy gal I met in 1952 and shared a soda pop at the drive in." Sam laughed and shook his head.

"I bet you have some awesome stories to tell," he sighed. "But I see what you're saying. You've learned to adapt to your situation."

"Adapt, overcome, conquer and beat to death," Greg sighed taking a bite of his burger. Sam raised an eyebrow at the man's suddenly serious tone. "Don't get me wrong…" Greg said, splattering Sam with lettuce shrapnel, "…I'm not lonely and have made more friends then humanly possible but the scenery can get a little dull once you've seen it all. Sure things change but… You know I've been to Stanford four times already?"

"Jesus," Sam breathed. "Impressive."

"Impressive and boring," Greg replied. "You know you and your family will have to let me know if you ever come across a way to kill an immortal. I'd be much obliged if you did." Talking about death was a subject Sam was never comfortable with, especially if it was someone close to him. Sure human beings had to die eventually but there had been to many close calls in Sam's life to think of death as a natural occurrence. With his families luck, he highly doubted any of their lives would end peacefully in their beds.

"Anyway…" Sam said interrupting the morbid train of thoughts, "…I think we should check out that mine and see if was can find this Inshara."

"Not a good idea Chester," Greg replied. "Never mind the fact that it sounds like Wendigo territory, but we go in there without really knowing what's going on and it could spell disaster."

"Wendigo, Major?" Sam scoffed. "Wendigo's are never found this far north."

"Yes they are I…" Greg stopped, pursed his lips and then shook his head, "Sorry," he replied. "Got stuck thinking 1940's."

"Don't tell me," Sam sighed. "You hung out with a pack of Wendigos?" Greg gave him a sarcastic look then shook his head.

"No smart ass," he replied. "I got wind of some hunters going nuts across the northern states. Some sort of crusade to purify the north of Wendigo's. Heard the guy that started the whole gig found out his grandfather was one and just… went ballistic. I spent the next twelve years avoiding the north as did all the rest of the paranormal."

"What happened to those hunters?" Sam asked. He found himself hanging on Greg's every word, curious to say the least about all the man had experienced. Greg looked around the room nonchalantly and shrugged.

"I think a pack of werewolves teamed up with one or two of the last Wendigo's of the north and ate them," he replied. Sam, who'd just taken a sip of coffee, spluttered and coughed. He took a few deep breaths before clearing his throat.

"Ate them?" he echoed. "And since when do Wendigo's and werewolves hang out together?"

"When does a fun little trickster like an Inshara start hanging out with an evil memory sucker like a Ragnakta? Special circumstance Chester," Greg replied immediately. "We all do what comes naturally, for most it's protect ourselves at all costs for me, it's find new places and new people."

"Huh," Sam said dunking his head once again into his coffee.

"If you two ladies are just about finished with story time…" Sam snapped his head up toward the bathroom door where Dean had emerged. "… then I'd like to go put that Inshara's tiny head on a stake."

"It's not that easy Dean," Sam sighed.

"Why the hell not?" Dean snarled.

"Well because last time you went out there, you ended up an eight year old with partial amnesia," Greg smiled helpfully. Dean glared at the Major and folded his arms.

"You know I'm starting to hate you," he snapped.

"Aw… junior don't hate me cause I'm always right," Greg replied. When Dean's eyes bugged out of his head in rage, Sam just barely managed to stand up and grab him before the small Winchester ripped Greg's eyes out. After being held for a few moments, Dean calmed down and was released.

"So," Sam said. "we need to check out the mine but we can't risk getting shrunk like Dean and Dad. What do we do?"

"We call an Inshara to us," Greg said simply. "We probably wont get the one that went after your dad and brother but at least we could get some answers. I also highly doubt any Inshara that's working with a Ragnakta is really going to wanna talk shop with you guys anyway."

"How do we summon one of those things?" Dean asked. Apparently his rage had died down enough to leave room for common sense.

"You don't summon a forest fairy, half pint," Greg smiled. The flare of anger re-ignited in Dean's eyes.

"One more short joke and I swear to god I will find a way to kill you as painfully as possible," he growled.

"That a promise tiny?" Greg smiled back. Dean let out a whoop of rage only to once again be restrained by Sam. This time, Sam held Dean while they continued the conversation.

"So we don't summon it…" Sam started.

"We call it," Greg finished. "Literally… we need a dog whistle." At that Dean stopped squirming and stilled both he and Sam looked at Greg as if he'd just spoken in tongues and spit fire.

"A dog whistle?" Sam said carefully. Greg nodded.

"High frequency sound," he said. "Little guys hate it, you keep whistling and eventually one will show up if for no other reason to tell you to shove the whistle up your… well you get the point. We can bring it here, trap it and start asking questions." Sam was so confused by the simple answer that he didn't see the tiny pearly whites descending on his hand.

Seconds later, he sure felt them. Sam yelped in pain and practically tossed Dean to the floor before looking at his hand incredibly.

"You _bit_ me??" he exclaimed. "Who the hell bites someone!?"

"Someone who needs to find a dog whistle," Dean replied triumphantly picking himself up off the floor. He grabbed his .45 from the duffel bag on the floor and tucked it into the front pocket of his overalls. "Let's go Sammy, we're wasting day light," he said turning to the door.

"Nice try Dean," Sam said. He stood up and removed the obvious weapon from the overalls and tucked it in his own jeans. "You can't go out looking like the bastard child of Rambo and the American Psycho. You're eight, act like it."

"I don't wanna," Dean replied.

"Tough," Sam said. Dean looked up at him angrily.

"You suck."

"That the best you got Dean?" Dean shrugged.

"I'm acting like a kid," he replied then with a sly grin he kicked Sam in the shins and headed for the door. "You're mean," he added with a laugh. After recovering from the kick Sam looked up at Greg who was still laughing.

"Stay here and watch John," he snapped. Greg was laughing to hard to reply but he nodded and waved anyway. With a sigh Sam headed out to the Impala and hopped in the drivers seat next to Dean.

"Where's Dad?" Dean asked.

"There's no need for all of us to go for a dog whistle," Sam replied. He started the car and pulled out, after a moment of silence Dean's frown got Sam's attention. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Dean shrugged. "You just seem to put a lot of trust in a guy you barely know. Never mind the whole, he can't die, bit." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Greg's harmless, being immortal doesn't change that," he replied. Dean glared at him,

"Doesn't it? He's what we hunt Sam! He…"

"He's what _you_ hunt, Dean. I gave that life up," Sam interrupted. "You and dad need to get over yourselves and accept that."

"That's right," Dean huffed. "Sam Winchester, holier then thou, was able to save himself from his horrible childhood with his evil father and older brother."

"That's not what I said Dean," Sam hissed. "God if you and dad could for one second, _one second_, think about anything but the god damn hunt then maybe you'd see college as a good thing! Maybe what this family needs is a little education, instead of running off half cocked into a hunt and damn near getting yourself killed! I mean… if for one moment in your pathetic lives you realized that sometimes you two can be so, so…"

"Stupid?" Dean's voice wasn't at all the ferocious tone Sam had been expecting. It was low and timid, sounding almost as though Dean really was a child at the moment. Sam glanced at his brother and saw the hurt on the child's face, he knew he'd gone to far with what he'd said.

"Dean I… I didn't mean to say…"

"No I get it," Dean interrupted. His little face had gone flush and surprisingly, much to Sam's horror, large tears rolled down Dean's chubby cheeks. Dean Winchester never cried, never, ever, ever cried.

"Dean…" Sam said breathlessly.

"Dad and I just aren't as smart as you," Dean replied. His tiny chest hitched with silent sobs, Sam still couldn't get over the fact that his brother was crying. "Maybe you're right. Maybe if we were as smart as you then this hunt wouldn't have gotten screwed up so bad. Maybe… maybe I wouldn't be feeling so much like a child that it's making me cry." Dean raised a small fist to his eyes and wiped them quickly before turning away from Sam. "God damn Inshara, that bastard's going to pay for this. Stupid little kid tears… I'm not crying Sam, I'm leaking out my eyes," he protested adamantly.

"Dean," Sam tried again. One more time he was cut off when Dean shook his head. The tears had been wiped away and the hardened look of a veteran hunter had returned.

"Let's just get the whistle Sam," Dean replied as he turned back toward the window. "The sooner we do, the sooner you can go back to your apple pie life." That hurt, but Sam didn't say anything this time because he knew he didn't have the right. Instead he just focused on the road while seconds later, Dean turned on some AC/DC to drown out any possible attempt at conversation.

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TBC…

Little bit of a filler chapter but don't worry, next chapter is going to be action pact and angst filled! Keep reading and reviewing please! Thanks!


	4. Angry Little Fella

Wow okay, so document posting has been a bastard for the past few days and pissed me off to a point of smashing things... LOL PANDA SMASH!!!

That said, thanks to whoever told me how to do this (another fan fictioner) here's the next chap of the story. God I hoped this worked...

Disclaimer: Don't own just worship

Enjoy!

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From the store and back again the Winchester brothers drove in silence, well as silent as you can be with mullet rock blasting through the speakers. Sam had wanted to say something, wanted to apologize but part of him was still angry. He was angry that his family was making him out to be the bad guy all because he wanted to go to college.

Still every time he looked over to the passenger side of the car and saw his miniature brother he felt that emotional punch all over again. Dean's head would either be bowed or focused out the window. He hadn't once dared look toward Sam, causing Sammy to wonder just what his brother was thinking. But there was no way he'd ask, at least, not at the moment. It there was one thing John Winchester taught his kids that had actually stuck with Sam was that stubborn pride comes before all else. Dean wasn't about to say what was on his mind and Sam wasn't about to ask. Most likely everything would culminate at one point or another and they would explode at each other and say a lot of things they didn't mean.

As they pulled back into the motel parking space Sam was suddenly reminded of the last major explosion that had happened between him and his family. It started out with,

_'Dad I'm going to college.' _and ended with, _'You don't ever come back.'_

Of course there were a few choice words and phrases between that but in the end the point had been made. John didn't want an educated son and Sam didn't want a dead beat, revenge driven dad. They were just two totally different people that couldn't understand one another. That was where Dean came in but even then, the middle Winchester had chosen a side.

It had been shocking to all parties involved when Dean had actually chosen a side. It was during a lull in Sam and John's yelling match that Dean had looked at Sam, shrugged and said,

_'I'm going with dad on this one Sammy, it's too dangerous for you to be alone.'_ That really had been the final nail in the coffin, even Dean had looked stunned by his own words. Sam had been hurt and John had never looked so smug before in his life. Sam's heart broke and with it, his control. Moments after the words had left Dean's mouth Sam decked his father, shoved his brother hard enough to topple Dean off a chair and then went to pack.

Ten minutes later Sam flipped off his father and brother and walked out their motel room door. He was half way to the bus stop when Dean had driven up beside him and told him to get in.

Two years later Sam still didn't understand why his brother drove him all the way to Palo Alto without so much as a word. And when they got there, Sam got out of the car and his brother drove off once again. No goodbye, no take care of yourself, just the familiar hum of the Impala's engine getting farther and farther away. For days after that car ride Sam toyed with his phone, wondering if he should have called his brother but eventually school took over.

But one thing that still bothered him was the silence, the Winchester pride that always got in the way of rational discussions. Sam decided enough was enough.

"Dean look at me," Sam said. From the passenger seat next him, Dean gave him a sideways glance. The car was now off and there was no chance of Dean just turning up the music.

"What do you want Sam?" Dean squeaked back. For a moment Sam was a bit taken back that Dean hadn't bolted from the car.

"We can't go on like this Dean," Sam said finally. "I wasn't implying that you and dad were stupid, earlier. I was simply saying I shouldn't be condemned because I chose a different path for myself."

"Okay Sam, gotcha," Dean replied. "Can I go now or do you have some more estrogen to get out of the way first?" Sam rolled his eyes, another Winchester trait was to use sarcastic humor to deal with emotional situations.

"Dean come on, is this really how you want to leave it?" he asked. Dean twisted in his Oshkosh overalls and gave Sam a hardened Dean Winchester Mexican stand off glare.

"No Sam," he replied. "I didn't want to leave it like this two years ago but you made that choice."

"You were the one who sided with dad!"

"I didn't side with anyone," Dean snapped. "I agreed with dad that it was too dangerous for you to be alone, I still do but had you pulled your head out of your ass for two god damn seconds, I would have been able to say that you should be allowed to make your own decisions about what you do with your life. But you were to self absorbed and being self righteous to even listen to me. You and dad were both full of shit that night and I, once again was collateral damage." Sam blushed slightly and turned away, he knew he could me narrow minded. And he'd accepted long ago that sometimes when he got angry at his father, he'd block out all else. Apparently he'd blocked out his exterior voice of reason as well that night by ignoring Dean.

"Dean…" he began to apologize but was cut short.

"Save it," Dean replied. His tone wasn't angry, just tired. "Dad shipped me off to stay with Caleb for a month or two after you left." Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Caleb? What about Pastor Jim?" he asked. Dean snorted and finally looked away from his younger brother.

"And have dad admit to a holy man he couldn't be around his eldest son because it reminded him of how badly he'd failed his youngest? I don't think so," he replied.

"Dad didn't fail me…" Sam tried. He was once again brought under his brother's piercing gaze.

"You hated your life, you hated us, you chose Stanford and you _chose_ to disown us…"

"Hold on I didn't…"

"You disowned us Sam, not the other way around. Dad might have said some shitty things but not once, _not once_, did he ever say that you weren't his son," Dean shot back. To anyone outside the car, it probably would have looked ridiculous that Sam was being told off by an eight year old but thankfully the parking lot was pretty empty.

"He told me to stay gone Dean," Sam replied.

"Yes he did," Dean came back just as quickly. "But as I recall _you_ were the one who yelled, 'you're not my father anymore.'"

"I was speaking figuratively, Dean," Sam sighed. "I meant he was being a dictator drill sergeant, instead of a father. We weren't sons to him, we were soldiers."

"Sorry, guess simple minded Dad and I just didn't get it," Dean shot back. The low blow hit Sam in the gut as he realized their entire conversation had come right back around to him implying his father was stupid. Which wasn't even what he'd meant to say in the first place. Sam sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead, apparently he was getting no where at all with his brother.

A knock on the hood of the car startled both Winchesters out of their thoughts. When they saw Greg raising an eyebrow at them, they hopped out of the car.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Fine," Dean and Sam barked at once. Greg rolled his eyes but said nothing and the three of them walked back into the motel room.

John was sucking on a bottle of milk propped up against the headboard with more pillows. When Sam saw this he looked at Greg with a raised eyebrow.

"He's feeding himself?" he asked. Greg raised his hand and revealed two small puncture marks on his hand.

"I tried… and then I found out your old man's been hording sharp objects in his diaper," the Immortal replied. "Stuck me twice before I realized he was wielding a pin like a sword." Sam looked incredulously at his father, amazed that the baby had the manual dexterity to not only hold the bottle steady enough to drink from but also wield pins.

"Least we know he still knows what's going on," Sam huffed. Baby John continued to suck away on his bottle.

"This is dad, Sam," Dean said. "Granddad was a Major, for all we know this is _exactly_ how dad was like as a baby." Greg snorted at the remark but then reached into the bag that Dean had just placed on the table. He pulled out the dog whistle and looked oddly amused.

"_This_ should be fun," he smirked.

"How long is it going to take to call one of these things?" Sam asked.

"Depends who's in ear shot," Greg said as he lifted the whistle to his lips. He took a deep breath and blew until that breath was expended. "If an Inshara's close by it shouldn't take long. If they aren't close by it could take longer." Again Greg let out another silent burst on the whistle. Some where far off an anonymous dog started barking but still no fairy.

After three more bursts on the whistle Greg lowered it from his lips to take a breather. He sat down in a nearby chair.

"Getting a little light headed," he panted. Sam took the whistle from him and decided to take a turn at it. "We'll just have to keep going until we get one," Greg shrugged.

Sam nodded and let out another silent blast on the whistle. He repeated the process and was half way through his second whistle when suddenly a little green light shattered through one of the windows and started whipping around the room, knocking things over. Finally the light stopped dead in front of Sam and batted the whistle angrily from his hand.

"Shut up!" squeaked a tiny voice. It was like listening to Mickey Mouse on helium. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! SHUT. UP!!!" the voice continued. The light got a little bit brighter and closer to Sam's face. "Do you have any idea how damn annoying that thing is?!" exploded the disembodied voice. "I mean seriously! SHUT UP!!" Sam was so surprised by the angry ball of light that he wasn't quite sure what to do.

"I uh… I'm… sorry?" he offered. The light got closer and brighter, so close that Sam could actually feel a slight wind on his nose.

"SHYAAADAAAP!!" the enraged voice spat. "No more or I come back here and make you eat that thing pretty boy!" The light backed away from Sam and started toward the shattered hole in the window but never made it. Greg, with quick reflexes, leapt at the light and clamped his hand around it. At first Sam hadn't expected Greg to be able to catch a ball of light but strangely the second Greg's hand touched it, the light vanished, leaving in it's place a very angry looking tiny winged creature.

"Dean pass me that paper over by your dad," Greg ordered. Dean did so and placed the paper down on the table in front of him. On it was an odd symbol that looked like a pentagram with a circle around it and strange symbols. Sam would have to ask Greg about that later but there were more important things to worry about at the moment. Quickly Greg placed the winged creature on the piece of paper where surprisingly the thing looked down and didn't move.

The Inshara was light green from head to toe and wore what looked like a brown toga. His wings almost looked like the thin layer of a bubble but clearly by the way the creature had shattered the window the appendages were anything but delicate. Wings which were just a hair bigger then the little guys entire body. They were quite elaborate and actually pretty impressive. The Fairy was cute but clearly, he was not pleased.

He looked up with narrowed eyes from the symbol under his feet and folded his arms.

"You sons of bitches," he squeaked. "You tricked me!" Sam pulled up a chair, sitting across from Greg with the small creature in between. The Inshara paced back and forth angrily.

"We'll let you go in a moment," Sam said. "We just want some answers." The Inshara stopped pacing and put a hand to his forehead.

"Oh…" he moaned. "I don't feel so good… I, I feel… faint…" Just like that the little creature dropped back to the sheet of paper in a heap. Sam was about to pick it up with concern when Greg waved him off and leaned forward.

"Don't be so melodramatic, you're fine," he said. After a pause, the little creature's eyes popped open, when he realized no one was reaching to help him, he growled and sat up.

"Damn it, that always works," he squeaked.

"Not with me Inshara," Greg smiled. The fairy snapped his head toward Greg and held the man's gaze. Finally the Inshara cocked his head to one side and his little eyes went wide.

"An Immortal," he said. It seemed that calmed the Inshara a bit, knowing he was amongst a paranormal brethren, as Greg had put it earlier. The Inshara, no longer angry but rather curious looked at the others in the room. He looked at Dean and John first and smiled, "You two got suckered," he laughed. But when he looked up toward Sam his smile faded and he scrambled back to the farthest edge of the symbol trapping him to the table. "Y, you stay away from me!" he squeaked.

Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow and Sam opened his mouth to ask for an explanation but Dean cut everyone off.

"Start talking fairy boy or I rip off those pretty little wings," Dean snarled. "Which one of your bratty friends did this to me and my dad?"

"Easy Dean," Greg said.

"Yeah, _easy Dean_," the Inshara echoed. Then he turned to Greg and folded his arms once again. "What is it _you_ want?" he asked.

"We need to know if any of your friends in the nearby woods are working with a Ragnakta," Greg asked. The Inshara narrowed his eyes and sneered.

"No _friend _of mine works with that sub creature," he hissed. "Salaya has been around this parts for many years but we Inshara do not associate with her."

"Salaya? That's the name of the Ragnakta?" Sam asked. The Inshara looked at him warily before silently nodded.

"It may not be by choice," Dean piped up. Apparently he'd realized yelling at the creature wasn't going to do any good. The Inshara looked at him with a tiny raised brow so Dean continued, "Have any of your friends been missing for the past several years or maybe one's been acting strangely and disappearing at odd times?" he asked. The Inshara looked pensive for a moment. His little wings idly flapped as if it helped the process somehow. Then a look of recognition came across the little creatures face, recognition and fear.

"Please," he said. "You have to let me go now." It seemed exactly the reaction Sam hadn't been expecting from the rather cocky little creature. The Inshara seemed to be afraid of something but from who or what Sam had no idea.

"Just a name and where we can find them is all we ask," Greg said gently. More and more was Sam coming to realize how many years of wisdom his friend must have behind him. No matter who or what the Major was talking to, there was always a calming, soothing tone that made anyone feel like they could trust him. Still the little creature looked scared.

"I must warn the others, you don't understand, if she's got one of us, she'll soon come for the rest!" he squeaked.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked. The Inshara went back to his pacing, running his small hands through his shaggy hair.

"Inshara's need to exist as a group, one unit. Dividing the unit or coming between the group is life threatening. My pod needs each of it's members to support our individual life essence. We have all been feeling a slight weakness recently but we thought it was just the travelers. Every year during a full moon one of the pod is chosen to be the designated 'traveler', they go on a journey to check in with the other pods nearby," the Inshara explained. Sam perked up, finally they were getting somewhere.

"And who is your designated traveler?" Greg asked.

"Yorda," the Inshara replied. "But she'd never work with Salaya."

"And why's that?" Sam asked. Once again he was on the receiving end of a rather terrified glance before they got a response.

"Because Salaya came to us once, she killed one of our pod, none of us would ever work with her willingly let alone Yorda. The one Salaya killed was her sister," the Inshara replied. "We are twenty in a pod…"

"Ten sets of sibling twins," Greg said. The creature looked at him with a smile.

"You know my people," he replied. "Now our pod is only nineteen but we manage." Something dawned on Sam that he knew the Inshara would not appreciate in the least. By the looks on Dean and Greg's faces they were thinking the same thing so Sam decided to be the bad guy. It made sense because it seemed the creature had already decided he didn't like Sam.

"Is it possible Yorda's twin is working _with_ Salaya?" Sam asked. "How sure are you she's dead?" The Inshara glared at Sam indignantly, narrowing his eyes and pursing his small lips.

"She's dead, we would have sensed her if she wasn't," he snapped. "It's how we work, we _know_ what we are."

"Okay, easy," Greg said. "Let's all just calm down. Is there anyway we could talk to the others in your pod?"

"Why should I help you?" the Inshara demanded. "What do I get in return?" Greg smiled and pulled a jumbo size chocolate bar from his jacket pocket and handed it to the creature.

"Will this offering do?" Greg asked. The Inshara's eyes bugged out of his head as he sat on top of the chocolate bar and tried to stretch his hands the bar's length. Failing to measure up to the treat, the creature looked up to Greg with a large smile.

"I will ask my pod and return by dawn," he said. "May I go?" With a nod, Greg lifted the creature off the paper. As soon as he was free, the Inshara hefted the chocolate bar in his tiny hands and took off. The second he did, he once again became a ball of light that got brighter as the creature struggled to lift his new treat. But soon enough the Inshara zipped out the broken window, chocolate bar in tow. Greg sat back looking at the broken window.

"And now we wait I guess," he said.

"I really appreciate all the help you're giving us Major," Sam smiled. Greg was about to reply when there was a sharp knock at the door. Sam got up to answer it, making sure Dean was armed and Greg and his father were out of the way. Thankfully there was no need to worry as Bobby's gruff face appeared on the other side of the peephole. Opening the door Sam offered up an awkward smile. "Hey Bobby."

"Been a while Sam," Bobby nodded. He walked in the door giving Sam a solid thump on the back.

What happened next was unexpected on all accounts and had John wailing and Dean diving for cover. Bobby looked at Greg, Greg looked at Bobby, both men's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Sam made the mistake of blinking because it took that little time for Bobby to pull out a silenced pistol and shoot Greg six times in the chest.

"BOBBY NO!" Sam exclaimed. Though later he'd realize it really didn't matter that his friend had gotten shot. Dean quickly picked up John while Sam just looked from his bloody friend on the floor to Bobby.

"Bobby what the hell??" Dean demanded. Bobby didn't look up from the body, instead he sneered.

"Dead yet?" he asked. After a moment Greg moaned, then sat up looking at the holes in his shirt.

"No you bastard, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting," he growled. With Sam's help Greg stood up and looked at Bobby. "Bobby Singer, as I recall you owe me fifty bucks," Greg smiled smugly. Bobby scowled but put away his weapon.

"That was twenty five years ago and I never would have made the damn bet if I had known you were an immortal," the older man hissed. "And what the hell are you doing here anyway?"

"Helping us Bobby," Dean said. Sam almost laughed, _almost,_ when Bobby finally realized there were two other people in the room. The older man's face looked at Dean and then the baby in Dean's arms.

"Dean?" Bobby gawked.

"And John," Dean replied nodding to the baby.

"Great Caesar's ghost, you two stepped in it this time," Bobby said. Then he sighed shook his head and sat down in a nearby chair. "Okay Sam, let's take this from the beginning. Start with the kids over there and end with what exactly you are doing with this grade A jerk." As he spoke, he thumbed at Greg who innocently shrugged back with a smile.

"Well it started when…" Sam was cut off when he noticed Dean starting to waver out of the corner of his eye. He turned just as Greg grabbed John from Dean's arms and the middle Winchester collapsed to the floor. "Dean!" Sam exclaimed. He quickly got to his brother's side checking for a pulse and thankfully finding one.

"Is he okay?" Bobby asked.

"I think he just passed out," Sam sighed. He picked up his brother and laid him to rest on one of the beds. Then he looked up at the two other adults in the room. "I also think we're running out of time."

"Then let's get to it," Bobby said. "Lay it on me Sam."

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TBC…

Thanks for sticking with the story! More to come!


	5. Little Fella Big Fella

So I may or may not have lost track of the time of day in my story but for the sake of sakes we're going to say it's the afternoon now. Thanks for reading this far!

Things just got a whole helluva lot more interesting… Mwa ha ha.

Cheers!

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It had taken two hours and every explanation short of picture diagrams to explain the situation to Bobby. Sam went over everything starting with his brother showing up at his door a few nights ago, continuing to how the Immortal accidentally got involved and finishing off with Bobby running into the room and putting a few ventilation holes in Greg's chest.

Dean had yet to wake up which was becoming more and more concerning for Sam but it was hard to focus on that and the death glares passing between his good friend and the Winchester family confidant.

"It looks to me like your Inshara might not be totally in league with the Ragnakta," Bobby said eventually. Sam raised an eyebrow glancing warily over to Dean and his father then back again.

"Why do you say that?" he asked. Bobby nodded toward John and Dean on the bed but kept a solid eye on Greg.

"Because of your dad actually," he replied. When Sam gave him a curious look, Bobby continued, "Ragnakta's only like to feed off young children. They can't feed off babies because babies don't have strong enough memories yet and they don't like feeding off adults because adults aren't innocent… pure, like a child."

"So?" Greg asked. Bobby all but hissed at the immortal before turning back to Sam replying to the question as if Sam himself had asked it.

"So, the Ragnakta would never want his next meals to be as young as John is right now. Most likely Dean realized they were both getting shrunk, grabbed your dad and ran before he could get any smaller," Bobby replied. "Ragnakta's prefer 10 or 11 year olds, Dean looks what… eight, nine? And this is your brother we're talking about Sam." Bobby's old face creased into a smile as if it was obvious that was supposed to mean something. Sam blinked, confused then he shrugged.

"I'm not following you Bobby," he finally said. Bobby rolled his eyes and crumple up a blank sheet of paper from a nearby pad. He looked toward Dean and tossed it toward the small boy. Even asleep or unconscious, Sam wasn't sure which it was at this point, Dean rolled away from the offending ball before it even made contact with the bed. Bobby turned back to Sam.

"Your brother's on even when he's unconscious Sam," he replied. "And if his father or you were in danger? He may not have realized what was going on but the moment that boy smells danger that he can't handle, he gets the heck outta dodge with or without your father's permission." Sam sighed and tried not to think about what he could have done to help if he had just been there on the hunt with his father and brother.

"I get it," he breathed. Then he looked up, "So what do we do about it? Greg says the only way we can get them back to normal is if we find that Inshara." Once again Bobby's face darkened and he glared at the Immortal.

"I still don't like it being here," the older man growled. Greg cocked his head to once side and he smiled smugly.

"Fifty bucks Bobby, that's all I have to say," he said. Bobby started standing threateningly and Greg's body language tensed but before blood could be spilt Sam raised his hands to both of them.

"Okay, I've had enough of this," Sam said abruptly. Both men held the Mexican standoff for a few more seconds before sitting down. "Right," Sam said. "Now will one of you please explain to me what the hell happened 25 years ago?"

"Besides this sad sack stiffing me on a bet and being a real jerk in general?" Greg questioned. "Not a thing."

"You son of a…"

"Enough," Sam said cutting off yet another blood bath. He looked between the two making sure they weren't going to lung. "So here it is, I'm tired, frustrated and a little bit pissed off, alright? I'm already dealing with two children, I'd rather not deal with you two as well. So, Bobby, you go first…" Greg opened his mouth and raised a hand to protest but Sam glared at him, "And _you_ will shut up until he's done, understood?" Greg flopped back into his chair and nodded. "Good, okay," Sam sighed. Then he looked at Bobby and waited. Bobby got the message and cleared his throat.

"First off, when I knew him his name was Spencer and he _told_ me he was a hunter," Bobby began.

"I never said I was a hunter, I…"

"Greg," Sam warned. Though it felt like his world was spinning out of control Sam still wanted to hear the story through to the end. Greg clenched his jaw but remained silent.

"One day I'm doing some research and this punk comes knocking on my door and says he knows all the history I could ever want on the spirit I was trying to stop. It was terrorizing a nearby construction sight," Bobby says. "I was damn near ready to fill the punk full of buckshot when he starts spewing information like it's going out of style. I mean he knew everything, _everything_ about this spirit. So I let him in, I let him join me on the hunt figuring he was another hunter… I was too young and stupid to know better. So after a few days we have as much info as a hunter could ever want and we head to the construction sight a little after night fall. I'm getting the gris gris ready when chuckles over hear bets me fifty bucks he can banish the poltergeist by himself without my help."

"And you believed him?" Sam asked incredulously. Bobby scoffed at the very idea.

"Not for a second," he replied. "But this was a nasty spirit. Tossing construction equipment, using nail guns and up rooting nearby trees. Three hunters had been seriously hurt before I had come along. I figured he could go in first, be the distraction while I got rid of the thing."

"Such a humanitarian," Greg mumbled. Bobby rolled his eyes but continued.

"So I agreed to the bet, under false pretenses I might add," he said. "Spencer goes in and before I can even wait ten seconds there's a bright flash of light and the spirit is gone." Sam was stunned as he looked between the two men not quite understanding.

"But… how?" he blurted out.

"There's two ways to get rid of a malevolent spirit Sam," Bobby replied, sounding strangely familiar to John. "One is to banish it and two is to forcing the spirit to confront it's past. Like bringing two lost spirits together…" Sam snapped his head back.

"But…"

"But Spencer… Greg… who ever the hell, isn't a spirit I know, he's an Immortal," Bobby sighed. "As in he neglected to tell me that fact and the fact that he used to live with the very spirit that was haunting the sight. All he had to do was go in there, tell the spirit it was time to go and, voila it did."

"Hey, I got hurt in that little hunt you know!" Greg protested. Bobby nodded, at least that was something they agreed on.

"He came out of the house with a two by four lodged in his chest, missing an eye and enough nails in his body to build a house," Bobby replied. "And he has the audacity to ask me for my fifty bucks…"

"I got rid of the spirit," Greg shrugged. "And I was short on cash, I needed that fifty for a bus ticket."

"You are so full of…"

"Stop," Sam ordered. Once again both men backed down, Sam couldn't help but wonder why god saw fit to curse him with these adult children, figuratively _and_ literally. "So what did you do Bobby?" he asked.

"Jerkass shot me in the face and took off," Greg huffed. "Took me five hours to come too again and get all those damn nails outta my skin."

"And the two by four?" Sam asked. Greg threw his hands in the air and shook his head.

"Took me two weeks hiding in a sewer before I finally managed to pull the sucker out," he replied. Then he glared at Bobby, "I didn't appreciate living in a sewer Singer, especially after I came back to you for help."

"I couldn't be associated with a freak," Bobby snarled. This time Greg stood up and folded his arms across his chest.

"You SHOT me AGAIN!!" he exclaimed. "…IN THE FACE!!" Bobby shrugged and looked away.

"You had it coming… asking me for that fifty again," he huffed. Greg lunged and Sam knew there was no way he could get between them in time but fortunately he didn't have too. A moan from the bed drew everyone's attention immediately. Even baby John stopped kicking his legs idly.

Sam quickly got to his feet and rushed to his brother's side. Dean moaned a little more before his small eyes fluttered open.

"Hey Dean," Sam said softly. "How are you feeling?" Dean's young eyes looked around the room tiredly then finally landed back on Sam.

And then Dean screamed. Screamed for all he was worth and forcing all the adults in the room to cover their ears and back away from the child. Little Dean leapt off the bed ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. Only after the door had closed, did the screaming stop.

Sam shook his head to dull the ringing in his ears then moved toward the bathroom door. He could hear the hitched breath of a terrified child on the other side but found the door to be locked. Bobby and Greg stood back curiously while Sam gave a light knock on the door.

"Dean?" he asked.

"Go away!" Dean squealed trying to sound threatening but failing miserably. "My daddy's goina be back any second and you'll be sorry!" Sam felt a cold chill run up his spine as he glanced back to Bobby. The family friend frowned.

"She fed again," he said. "Once they've got a child's scent it doesn't matter where they go, she can still get at them."

"So Dean…" Sam began.

"May actually believe he's eight years old," Greg finished. He too was frowning, "Sorry Chester." Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head against the bathroom door frame. All he had wanted to do was lead a normal, safe life with his girlfriend at Stanford. He'd left the world of supernatural behind for a reason, so he didn't have to deal with situations like this one.

After taking a calming deep breath and realizing there was no way he could just pack up and go home, Sam opened his eyes and looked at the door in front of him.

"Dean, I know this is hard to believe but you're actually adult trapped in a kids body," Sam tried. "We aren't going to hurt you."

"I don't know that!" came the reply. "I want my dad! I WANT MY SAMMY!" Sam sighed and tried to think of what he could say to the frightened child. It was strange that a few hours ago he'd been talking to the child on equal maturity levels and now he had to sooth the young one. It was… just awkward.

"Dean look, I uh… I'm not sure how to tell you this but…" Suddenly Sam was cut off when Bobby strode up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're right Dean," he said. "You don't know these two but you remember me right? Bobby? I helped your dad out a few times while you watched Sammy." There was a long pause and then a shuffling noise against the door.

"Mr. Bobby?" Dean asked. Sam felt his shoulder's ease, thankfully the Winchesters had met Bobby a year or two before Dean's eighth birthday. Years ago Bobby had told Sam how it took a good three years of knowing the Winchesters before Dean stopped calling him 'Mr. Bobby.' Something about Dean not being able to pronounce the word 'Singer' properly and refusing to admit it.

"That's right kid," Bobby replied. Clearly by the look on his face he was just as relieved that his plan had worked.

"If you're Mr. Bobby, where's Sammy and my dad?" Dean asked. Bobby blanched but only for a second before leaning into the door again.

"Your dad got stuck in another state on a hunt, he asked me and these two other hunters to come stay with you until he gets back," the man replied. Another pause.

"What's the password?" Ever the cautious one Dean wasn't about to just say everything was alright. Thankfully Sam remembered back to when Dean was this age and he also remembered the phase his big brother was going through at the time. So he decided to take a chance.

"Megatron," Sam guessed. Bobby and Greg both looked at him oddly but he shrugged. "He had a thing for transformers once." It looked like Bobby was about to say something when the door suddenly creaked open. Dean's small face peaked through the crack and looked up at Sam and Bobby.

"Okay," he said. "So where's Sammy?"

"Sam's uh…" Sam began.

"With Pastor Jim," Bobby jumped in this time. "He's got a cold and you dad didn't want you getting sick too." It was a weak excuse but thankfully after a moment of consideration, Dean apparently bought the excuse and came out of the bathroom. He walked farther into the motel room but stayed cautiously close to Bobby's side while looking at the others.

"So who are they? And who's the baby?" Dean asked. Apparently Bobby's luck had run out as he blanched. Sam did as well, how the hell were they supposed to explain who they were?

"My names Greg," Greg said suddenly. He picked up John in his arms and snuggled the baby. "And this is my special little guy, John." Dean raised an eyebrow then looked at Sam.

"And who are _you_?" he demanded. Sam looked at Bobby for help but the older man just shook his head.

"I uh…" Sam began. He knew if he didn't answer quickly, his brother's suspicious nature would kick in and they'd never be trusted ever again.

"That's my brother Spencer," Greg smiled. "We hunt together and take turns taking care of Johnny here." Oddly enough Dean's eyes started to loose a bit of their fear and gain some curiosity.

"Sammy's my brother," Dean smiled happily. "We hunt with my dad but sometimes I have to take care of Sammy while my dad's away. Me an Sammy are going to grow up and be hunters like my dad!" Sam felt a vice grip clench around his heart and he tried not to show it on his face. If Dean had had the raw innocence in his voice now when Sam was getting ready to leave for Stanford two years ago… Sam would have never made it out the door.

"We should get something to eat, there's nothing we can do until we hear back from our little friend," Greg said.

"Who? Is Sammy coming back? I wanna talk to him," Dean piped up. He fiddled with the buttons on his overalls and looked hopefully from one adult to another. Bobby sighed and knelt down next to Dean.

"Sorry Kiddo, Sam needs his rest, he wont be able to talk to you right now," he said. All at once Dean looked suspicious on top of worried. It was a look Sam had seen many times before and he knew 'big brother' mode had just kicked in.

"How sick is he? I don't remember him getting sick…" Dean looked down at his small hands and bit his bottom lip. "I should be there with him. Sammy needs me, it's my job." This time, Sam had to look away from his brother and close his eyes to maintain his composure. It wasn't that he didn't know his brother felt responsible for him it was just that it had been two long years since he'd experienced the sentiment.

"You got a pretty good bump on the head Dean," Bobby said. "Why don't you lie down some more?" Dean automatically shook his head and started searching for something.

"No, I need a phone, Sammy needs to hear my voice," Dean replied. "It'll make him get better faster if he can hear my voice." Sam couldn't take anymore, he stood up and headed toward the door.

"Sa… Spence wait," Greg called. Sam froze in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. Greg leaned over and placed little John in Dean's arms. "Dean, I've heard how good you are taking care of your brother Sam. I was hoping while my brother and I step out you could look after John for me. It's a big task, do you think you're up to it?" Dean looked hesitant but he coddled the baby and walked over to the bed.

"I guess so," he replied. "I am _eight_ after all."

Soon enough Sam was walking down the street with Greg quietly waking beside him. They walked for several minutes in silence before finally Greg cleared his throat.

"Man you have _got_ to stop beating yourself up over this Sam," he said. Sam stopped walking and looked at his friend.

"We just lied to the one of the few people in the world who's opinion I actually value," he sighed.

"Who, Bobby?" Greg smiled. Sam gave him a look but didn't reply. "Look Sam, it would take us _days_ to explain all this to an eight year old. I mean, look how long it took Singer to get it. Besides, when this is all over, Dean and John probably wont remember any of this. And if, _if_ by some horrible twist of fate we can't get them back to normal, do you really think they'll want to grow up knowing it's the second time around for them? I mean talk about recipe for disaster and the psychiatrist bills… yikes!" Sam shook his head and ran his hands through his hair.

"I just… I left them two years ago but it never really occurred to me how much my decision would effect Dean," he replied.

"It's because you didn't think." Sam and Greg turned around as Bobby walked up to them. He waved, "Don't worry, the kids are fine."

"I better make sure," Greg said. "Don't stay out too long, I'd hate to have to come rescue you Sam from this traitor." Bobby growled at Greg and the man shrugged with a smug smile and walked back toward the motel room. Sam sighed and looked at Bobby then folded his arms across his chest.

"Let's have it Bobby," he sighed. Bobby raised an eyebrow, so Sam continued, "Come on, I know dad and Dean had to have said something over the passed two years about me and I know you want to say something about it."

"I already told you over the phone, Sam, I don't want to have anything to do with this little feud you've got going on and that's exactly what I told the other two. That said, you Winchesters have the stubborn streak of a cranky mule on a hot day. You didn't think about your brother's feelings cause whether your daddy meant to or not, he raised you to be self sufficient. The three of you are fully capable of taking care of yourselves all by your lonesome… your brother and father just choose not to," Bobby explained. Sam thought about that for a moment then raised an eyebrow.

"So you're saying…" Bobby shrugged and turned toward the motel again.

"I'm saying it's about time one of you realized family don't mean spending every waking moment with each other," he said. Sam was stunned, he'd figured that his brother and father would have painted him to be a monster to the other hunters, Bobby especially.

"Bobby what about my dad and Dean…"

"Are proud of you Sam and embarrassed they aren't as strong as you," the old hunter interrupted. "But don't you go yammerin' off to your brother and dad about what I just said. I don't wanna have to shoot anybody to keep that quiet y'understand?" Sam smiled and nodded.

"Not a word Bobby," he replied. Because deep down, he'd hoped and part of him, a small part, had known his brother and father were proud that he showed such initiative. They may hate him for it but deep down they thought differently, Sam could only hope one day they'd come around and actually admit it.

They returned to the motel room where they found Dean, John and Greg all asleep in a pile on one of the beds. Sam smiled, Bobby scowled.

"If he wasn't so damn good with kids, I'd be trying to cut him into tiny pieces right now," the hunter growled. Then he shook his head and turned back toward the door, "I'm going to get some food, you want anything?" he asked. Sam shook his head and Bobby was gone.

For once in Sam's life he was all of a sudden the guardian, the one who took up the watchful eye in the crappy motel room chair with a weapon securely clutched in his hands. The one who watched the door and didn't sleep because sleep was for the weak and unprepared. Dad had done it more times then Sam could count. Dean had done it enough times to make Sam feel helpless. Now was Sam's turn to sit watch and for once since his father had told him about the oogley booglies that go bump in the dark, he felt useful. Something he always felt was lacking through out his life.

Something that actually, maybe just slightly, made Sam envy his family and miss the hunt even more. If he had known it felt this good to stand guard, he might have even rethought Stanford… for a while anyway.

There were few words spoken after that, even after Greg woke up and realized his situation. He smiled, arranged Dean and John so they were more comfortable and had come to sit next to Sam. Bobby dozed lightly on the second bed of the room and soon enough Greg nodded off again in his own chair. But Sam stayed wide awake, not daring, not even for a second to fall asleep.

The morning sun had just started making an appearance when a small ball of light stopped just on the other side of the hole in the glass window. Sam stood up, waiting for the ball of light to come in but instead it simply started making crazy, frantic circles. Getting the message Sam quietly grabbed a jacket and slipped outside.

He walked over to the Impala and leaned on the hood watching as the green light came toward him and landed on the hood. Once again the Inshara appeared as his wings stopped flapping.

"Enjoy the chocolate?" Sam asked. The Inshara, who had melted chocolate all over his face, hands and little toga, looked down at himself and then up sheepishly.

"Yes we did," he said with a smile but then his little face grew serious. "We have a problem big fella." Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You and the rest of your pod?" he asked. The Inshara shook his head.

"My pod, your pod… we _all_ have a problem big fella," he replied. "Yorda has disappeared, she never made it to the next pod and my pod… we're growing weaker by the hour. Salaya will be able to catch more of us if we get any worse." Sam could hear the worry in the little Inshara's voice and felt bad.

"I'll help you if I can," Sam replied. "I need to find Yorda anyway and if she's with Salaya then that's two birds with one stone." The little Inshara looked to his tiny feet as if they'd suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world and mumbled something. "I didn't catch that?" Sam said leaning closer to the little guy. The Inshara looked up sheepishly.

"Three birds actually," he said. Before Sam could ask about the dangerous glint that had suddenly appeared in the little Inshara's eyes, something solid connected with the back of his head. Dazed, he stumbled and fell to the gravel trying to stave off unconsciousness. His body was refusing to give in to his minds demands as he realized he'd just been suckered by a six inch high fairy.

As black spots danced through Sam's vision he looked up as the tree branch, wielded by three of the Inshara's cohorts dropped next to him. They had a pretty good swing for little creatures, Sam could feel the warm flow of blood from the wound on the back of his head as it sucked the life out of him.

He fought gravity all the way as he slowly lowered his head to the gravel and the Inshara's all landed by his head. The one Sam had been talking to walked up to his face, close enough for Sam's blurred vision to recognize the creature.

"Sorry big fella, but we gotta protect our own first," the fairy said. Sam's last conscious feeling was of several tiny hands lifting him up and then nothing.

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TBC…

Ha… Sam got taken down by fairies! In this case, size does not matter! Read and review please. As for Sam, I think it's official, he has the worlds smallest kidnappers!! LOL Thanks!


	6. Winchester Whirlwind

This chapter is _most definitely_ dedicated to Onasaki who got me off my bum to write another chapter. And to Miz Predictable for her awesomeness.

Sorry this took so long to get posted.

Cheers and enjoy!

Oz

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When Sam woke up his head was throbbing. It felt like his skull was suddenly four sizes to small for his brain. He didn't dare open his eyes until he was sure the light wouldn't immediately sear his retina's. There was that and Sam had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Somehow, he just knew he really wasn't going to like what he saw when he opened his eyes.

Instead, Sam tried to figure out where he was by the sensations around him. He could feel warm rays of sun on his face and could feel a gentle breeze which meant he was definitely outside. And the more he became aware of the fact that he was lying down and obviously restrained, the more he realized there were voices around him.

But there was something wrong with one of the voices. It was extremely familiar but sounded much… bigger then the last time Sam had heard it.

"He's the not going to like this," said the familiar voice. "He wont help us now. We shouldn't have done this."

"What choice did we have? The hunters would have never helped us," said a feminine voice. "Our pod is suffering Milos. Besides this isn't permanent and we'll explain that we mean know harm. It's simply reassurance that the humans will help us rather then simply going after Salaya."

"Faya, please I…"

"No! Milos… this discussion is done!" Sam waited for more but when he didn't hear anything he decided it was time to open his eyes. Things were a bit blurry but after blinking a few times the trees around him came into focus. Sam's heard leapt into his throat, the trees were much, _much_ bigger then they should have been.

"You're awake! Are you hurt?" Sam's worried gaze moved to the figure that had approached his side. Worry went right out the window, replaced by absolute horror. The Inshara who had been small enough to fit on the motel room table was normal size now.

"You're _huge_!!" Sam blurted out. The Inshara winced and shied slightly.

"Not exactly," he said. Finally Sam's sleep fogged mind put two and two together. He swallowed hard.

"You… shrunk me?" he asked. The more he spoke, the more he realized just how high pitch his voice sounded. Once again, the Inshara winced and bit his bottom lip.

"Not… _exactly_," he replied. Sam was starting to get really annoyed at the non-answers that he was getting. All he wanted to do was get free and get back to his brother and father.

_His family_! There was no telling what the other hunters left behind were thinking. For all Sam knew, they thought the Ragnakta had him and would be looking in the wrong places. Frustrated and angry Sam started to struggle in his restraints.

"Let me go!" he snarled. "Let me go n…" Sam's voice caught in his throat and he froze, something was wriggling behind his back but the second he froze… it froze as well. Sam looked at the Inshara standing next to him and narrowed his eyes. "What did you do to me?" he demanded. The Inshara looked at his green hands, looking like a small child that had been punished.

"You uh… you can't get too mad," he replied. "I mean, it wasn't my idea but really… you have to promise you wont get mad."

"To late for that," Sam growled. Then he realized getting angry and lashing out was not going to get him freed. The Inshara really seemed to be a gentle creature that could be reasoned with. That in mind, Sam took a deep breath and eased his body slightly. "Okay, I can't promise I wont get mad and I wont try and run, I just don't like being unable to defend myself." The Inshara opened his mouth to reply but was cut off when a bright light landed next to Sam and faded to reveal the slender figure of a female Inshara. An Inshara who didn't look very happy.

"We'll let you go but keep in mind you wont be able to out run us now," she said. "Milos… tend to him." The Inshara who Sam and his family had been dealing with since the day before finally had a name. Milos quickly untied Sam's ankles and wrists at which point Sam quickly sat up. He had been shrunk down, that much was as obvious as the tree stump they all appeared to be standing on. But there was more…

….And that's when he first noticed the strange pigmentation of his skin. Sam looked at his hands and bare arms. He looked at the brown material that he now wore instead of his regular clothes and. Sam swallowed. He swallowed hard and slowly looked up to the other creatures standing next to him.

"You didn't," he whispered. Milos looked at his small feet, the female Inshara raised a noncommittal eyebrow and nodded her head to the left.

"There's a puddle over there if you don't believe it," she said. Then she smiled a rather proud smile, "My name is Faya." Sam didn't reply to that, instead he scrambled to the edge of the stump and looked over the edge.

The reflection that stared back at Sam nearly made his heart stop. His skin was green. His body was tiny and as Sam's eyes grew impossibly larger two _extra_ appendages slowly raised themselves into the reflection.

"Sweet mother of all things good…" Sam gasped. He gave the appendages a little twitch to confirm his suspicions. Then slowly, he turned to Faya and Milos. "YOU TURNED ME INTO AN INSHARA!?!?!" he screeched. Faya puffed out her chest slightly and folded her arms. Milos smiled weakly.

"Uh… surprise?" he shrugged. Sam looked back at his new reflection. Of all the things he had dealt with as a child growing up a hunter with a drill sergeant as a father, never had he ever, _ever_ imagined this type of scenario.

Oddly all Sam could think at the moment was that Dean would never let him live this down. He looked down at his newly greenified, winged body and then back up again.

"Okay," he said remaining much more calm then he was actually expecting to be. "I'm… sort of one of you now…" Sam paused closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. Both Inshara's were still waiting for more as if they saw nothing wrong with the situation. "I can't… be like this forever so maybe you can explain to me exactly why you did this and _how_ I can change myself back to normal."

"You can't," Faya quickly replied. "Only we can… well the Inshara who changed you that is. Anyway, you're our prisoner so you do what we say. That said, we aren't going to explain ourselves more then once. Get up, we're going to explain things to your hunter friends and the immortal." Sam got to his tiny little feet, even as a fairy he was still taller then the others that stood in front of him.

"And how do you propose I get there?" Sam asked. "It'll take me the rest of the day to walk back to the motel from here… if we're still close enough that is." The two fairies looked at one another before Faya rolled her eyes and took off. Sam watched her ball of light rise into the air and join a few other balls of light that had appeared. Milos walked closer to Sam and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not that hard," he said. "Just think of flying and flap your wings." Sam snorted.

"I didn't have _wings_ yesterday, it can't be that easy." However as the seconds ticked away he became more aware of his 'wings' behind him. And when Milos simply shrugged Sam knew he had no choice.

A half hour later and after having a few near misses with a tree or two, Sam followed the other blurs of light out of the woods and across the road back to the motel where he'd been abducted from earlier that morning. Even though he didn't agree with what had been done to him and he was by no means okay with it, Sam couldn't help but be exhilarated by being able to fly.

It hadn't been a long flight but the fact that he was zipping through the trees with the wind whipping passed his face was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It was much better then any roller coaster he'd ever been on. Sam had also wondered how he was going to be able to see if he was a bright ball of green light but surprisingly, when he'd taken off, he didn't even notice the light around him. More still he could see the other Inshara's flapping their wings rapidly around him. It was as though the light was simply to confuse predators our anyone who would want to do them harm.

As expected the second the pod of Inshara's entered through the broken window all the rooms occupants were on alert. As Sam flew around the room, he got a good sense of just how angry his friends and family were. Bobby and Greg stood poised with weapons while Dean cowered with John beside one of the beds.

"Where the hell is he you little bastards!" Greg snarled. "What did you do with him!?"

"Don't even start to pretend you're innocent," Bobby hissed. Sam could see the older hunter had picked up a shot gun and was swinging it around, clearly ready to fire. "Stay still so I can make fairy paste out of you," Bobby growled.

"Bobby no!" Sam exclaimed. Suddenly both Greg and Bobby froze and looked at one another. Finally the Inshara's started landing and their lights faded away. It was then Sam realized that as okay as he had been flying… no one had ever told him how exactly he was supposed to land. Deciding prudence was best, Sam aimed for the bed and slowed down his flapping slightly.

The landing was anything but pretty. Sam landed, tripped, bounced, rolled and toppled off the end of the bed. Thankfully a hand caught him right before he hit the floor and when he dared open his eyes he found himself looking into child Dean's scared but concerned face.

"Hey… how did you get so little?" Dean asked. Sam sat up in the child's hand and took a deep breath.

"Question of the day isn't it?" he mumbled.

"What the hell?" From across the room, where the Inshara's had landed on the table, Greg came over to Dean, John and Sam and looked down. His eyes were wide with disbelief as he got to one knee.

"Chester?" he asked. Dean frowned.

"I thought his name was Spencer?" he asked.

"It is," Sam quickly corrected. "Chester's my nickname."

"Maybe it should be fairy boy," Greg snorted. Sam looked up at him and tried to look as angry as a small green Inshara could look.

"Eat it Major," he snapped. "Just shut up and find some way to fix this." Greg looked at the waiting fairies and then back to Sam again.

"Did you ask them to fix it?" he asked. Sam rolled his tiny little eyes and angrily puffed out his tiny little chest.

"No, I hadn't thought of that…. OF COARSE I DID!" he squeaked. "They wont change me back until we help them." With his outburst a smirk had developed across Greg's face and Dean's. "What's so funny!?" Sam demanded. This sent Dean into fits of giggles effectively rattling Sam around in his small hands. Thankfully Bobby had the good sense to take Sam from the snickering kid even though he too had a gruff smile on his face. "WHAT??" Sam yelled.

"I'm sorry Chester," Greg chuckled. "You're just so damn cute when you're angry!"

"FIX ME!!" Sam yelled then flopped back down into Bobby's large hand.

"Okay, Okay, take it easy, we'll get this sorted out," Bobby said. "Greg why don't you take the kids to go get some pop?"

"Life hell I'm leaving Chester alone with…" Greg was cut off when Bobby narrowed his eyes at him and reached for his shotgun. "Okay, alright I'm going. Come on Dean, let's fill you full of sugar!" Dean smiled and climbed to his feet as Greg picked up John.

"I WANT SUGAR!" Dean yelled as the trio left the motel room. Once they were gone, Bobby sat down in a chair with Sam on his shoulder and facing the other Inshara's.

"Explain," the old hunter grunted. Faya stepped forward and stood like she was seven feet high instead of inches.

"Yorda is working with Salaya," the fairy stated firmly. "Why, we do not know but we sensed her influence once Milos returned from visiting you."

"How does all this translate to you shrinking Sam?" Bobby asked. The Inshara raised an eyebrow.

"Our pod was already weakened by the loss of one but now with Yorda working with the Ragnakta we don't stand a chance. We needed a replacement until Yorda returns or Salaya is stopped," Faya explained. In truth the moment Sam had woken up in his new form, he had felt a connection with the other Inshara's almost like an instant bond had been created between his life energy and theirs. He could also feel the waning strength of the missing set of twins and knew the pod was much weaker then they all appeared to be. Bobby ran his hand down his face and sighed.

"So Sam doesn't get back to normal until this is dealt with?" he asked.

"Correct," Faya replied. However when Milos nudged her she rolled her eyes and softened her stance slightly. "We also realize we've now made you a hunter short and so as a gesture of good faith to show that we aren't malicious creatures, we are willing to break one spell." At this Bobby sat forward curiously.

"I thought the original Inshara had to break their own spell," he said.

"This is true, but if the rest of the pod deems in necessary, we can all put our resources together and break it," Faya explained. Then she regained her hard nose stance, "But are strength is weakening by the second. Choose one to be changed back and it shall be done. Everyone else stays the same until Salaya is dealt with." Sam felt his heart leap into his throat. Having Dean or their father back to normal would be more then a huge help at the moment. The problem was, which one.

"Your choice Sam," Bobby said as if ready Sam's mind. John was the more experienced hunter and much more level headed then Dean but Sam knew his father would never, ever let Sam return to Stanford after something like this. Even if John had to hog tie Sam and travel around the country with the youngest Winchester in the trunk, he'd do it. Sam didn't doubt that for a second. Dean on the other hand… Dean, Sam could handle, one heavy dose of the Sammy Winchester puppy dog eyes and Dean would bend over backward for him.

Not that Sam would ever misuse the secret weapon.

"Dean," Sam said at last.

"You sure kid?" Bobby asked. His tone wasn't surprised or worried, it was just concerned. Sam looked up at him oddly wondering what the puppy dog eyes looked like coming from a small green fairy.

"I just… I can't face dad like this Bobby," Sam replied.

"Okay, Dean it is then," Bobby nodded. He looked at the other Inshara's and shrugged. "So what happens now?"

"Now…" Faya said taking flight. "We dance."

That evening Sam wanted to curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment. Breaking the spell hadn't been as hard as Sam had anticipated it to be but it was extremely exhausting. When Faya had said 'we dance,' she's meant literally. When Dean, Greg and John returned to the motel room, Dean was placed on one of the beds and the dancing and chanting had begun. Sam had tried his best to ignore Bobby and Greg falling all over themselves in laughter as Sam was forced to participate in the ritual, dancing and leaping with the best of them.

After a while, Dean's small eight year old body began to glow and soon after it began to stretch and reform to a normal adult body. The light faded and all the Inshara's stopped dancing, Sam nearly crashing right into Milos who had been showing him what to do. Sam had never been so relieved to see his older brother back to normal.

The relief only lasted the duration of Dean being asleep however. It had been just over an hour ago that the fully resized Dean had woken up. Though the middle Winchester could only recall few bits and pieces of the last few days and none of the passed 24 hours, he quickly accepted what Bobby and Greg explained to him.

… And then Bobby explained Sam's current situation. Dean's eyes met Sam's and grew huge. There had been silence for a few minutes, and then Dean nearly collapsed in on himself gasping and crying with laughter.

"You're a fairy!" was all Dean had managed to get out. That had been twenty minutes ago and the middle Winchester was still shaking with laughter. Sam sat rouge faced on the edge of a table suddenly wishing Dean hadn't been returned back to normal.

"Okay Dean, enough is enough," Bobby said. Dean sucked in several deep breaths and nodded.

"Okay, okay, I'm good, I'm good," he sighed. Though for good measure, he reached over and gave one of Sam's wings a tug.

"Hey! That hurts!" Sam growled swatting him away.

"Can we focus?" Faya snapped angrily. Dean at last got himself under control and looked at the little green woman. "We want Yorda back and unless you find it more amusing to have your brother and father in such a state I suggest you get to work." Dean looked back to baby John who was kicking his little chubby legs in the air. Finally a frown crossed Dean's face and he looked back to the table full of little fairies.

"I hear you," he said. "And after looking through dad's research I've remembered one or two things… But there's something I should confess." Sam, Bobby, Greg and the Inshara's all stood or sat a bit straighter at Dean's foreboding tone.

"Dean what is it?" Sam asked. Dean sighed suddenly looking quite awkward.

"We uh… we knew your Inshara was working with the Ragnakta," the middle Winchester admitted. "And we uh… kind of forced her sister to help us."

"You _WHAT!?_" Faya barked angrily.

"Tya is alive?" Milos asked almost at the same time. Dean looked at him and nodded.

"We figured there was some sort of spell from the Ragnakta preventing you from sensing her," he continued. "We didn't have a choice, we had to use Yorda to get to her sister and then the Ragnakta." Sam was stunned and a little upset that his family had resorted to using another supernatural creature as bait. Sure they'd done it once or twice before but never with a creature as innocent and dependant as an Inshara. Even Greg looked a little angry at the confession.

However before Sam could say anything or even sense the switch in the other Inshara's demeanor Faya was on him. She grabbed his hair, pulling his head back and pointed a very sharp looking blade to Sam's throat.

"You have ten seconds…" Faya snarled giving Sam's throat a little prick, "…before I decide Yorda and Tya aren't the only sacrifices that are made because of you humans!" Dean's eyes narrowed at the threat as did Bobby's and Greg's. All of them could easily swipe the whole lot of Inshara's right off the table top but none of them were willing to risk it. Faya may be small but so was Sam and she wielded her pin size dagger like she really knew how to use it.

"You need him alive for your pod's sake," Greg tried to bargain. Faya dug her blade in deeper causing Sam to hiss.

"I don't need him that badly," she snarled.

"Okay, take it easy," Dean said raising his hands and backing away. "Look I'm sorry, my dad and I messed up okay? I'll make it right I promise." Had anyone being paying attention to the looming shadow outside the motel window, maybe the next chain of events could have been avoided.

No such luck however as suddenly a huge gust of wind blew open the motel room door nearly blowing it off it's hinges and sending all the Inshara's, including Sam flying in every which direction.

"Don't make promises you can't keep Winchester!!" boomed an angry voice. It was as if a mini tornado had picked up throughout the room and was systematically picking up all the Inshara's. Sam realized what was happening and tried to clutch the bed spread that he'd landed on.

"Dean!" he exclaimed feeling his grip loosening.

"Sam?" he heard his brother call. "Sammy!" But it was no use, just as Sam saw his brother locate him and reach out, his little hands were ripped from the bed spread and he was sent tumbling into the whirl wind with the other wailing, panicking Inshara's.

"Sorry Winchester," said the same angry voice. "Payback's a bitch." A darkness enveloped Sam's tiny body and swept him out the motel room door.

"SAMMY, NO!" was the last thing Sam heard before he heard nothing at all.

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TBC…

Oh no! Inshara Sammy and the others were swept away! But why? Why does the Inshara have a vendetta against Dean? Stay tuned and find out!


	7. Finally Some Answers!

Sorry this took so long, got lots a stuff going on in my life right now but I'm hoping to get this story done soon. I've already started working on the next chapter!

Oh and ONASAKI this is for you!!

Cheers Enjoy.

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When Sam came too, his head ached and it felt like he'd been riding a roller coaster for a month. With a groan he rolled over and bumped into something that let out a yelp when he did. Confused, Sam sat up and blinked the haze from his eyes. Though the fair next to him their small cage was most definitely an Inshara, she wasn't one Sam remembered seeing before.

"Who are you?" the Inshara asked beating Sam to the punch. "You're not one of my pod."

"No I'm not," Sam replied. "My name's Sam are you… are you Yorda?" The little fairies eyes went wide with fear as she shook her head and buried her tiny face in her hands.

"I'm Tya," she muffled. "Yorda tried to save me and the witch got her." Sam instantly felt remorse for the little creature though he was no bigger then her himself. He knew he and Dean would do anything for one another even if it meant sacrificing themselves. That's what siblings did for one another and it appeared as if that rule wasn't just applicable to humans.

Thinking of his brother Sam got to his feet and walked to the door of the cage he was in. With a few tugs he knew he was locked in securely. Then he looked out passed the door and a few feet away he could see several similar cages lining a wall stacked beside and on top of one another. Inside he could see several other little Inshara's, clearly this Ragnakta had been ready to capture this entire pod.

"Faya! Milos!" Sam called out. There was a pause and then Sam saw tiny hands appear at one of the cages.

"Here Sam!" Milos called out. "I don't know where Faya is, I can't sense her, I can't sense anyone!"

"I'm right here!" Faya's voice called out. Two cages down and three cages over the little Inshara's face appeared.

"It's the Ragnakta," Tya said quietly. Sam turned around to look at the scared Inshara.

"Pardon?" he asked gently.

"It's the Ragnakta," she repeated. "Her spells stop us from sensing one another and using our powers… we're trapped." The little creature broke down into tears and hugged her knees. Sam turned back to the front of his cage and looked out again. Other Inshara's had woken up as well and were all standing at the cage doors. It was obvious the Ragnakta had place twins alike in the same cage which was a small good thing at least.

"Faya I have Tya in here with me she says you can't sense one another and use your powers," Sam called. He saw Faya's little face almost mash into the cage door.

"No we can't… Is Tya alright? Is she hurt?" she asked.

"Tya! Tya! It's Milos! I can't see you!" Milos called out. Sam was slightly startled as the weeping Inshara in his cage suddenly appeared next to him at the door and looked out.

"My pod?" she whispered quietly. Sam gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"That's right," he said. Tya wiped her tiny tears and pressed her face to the cage.

"Milos? Faya?" she called. He voice was a little weak and strained but the others had no trouble hearing her.

"Be strong Tya, your pod is with you now," Faya said firmly. A small sad smile crossed Tya's face as she looked down with a small bit of relief.

"We're going to get you out of here okay? My brother's on his way and he'll never let me down," Sam said. The little fairy looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Your brother? Not your pod? You are not one of our kind," she said. Sam shook his little green head.

"No, I was… I guess I was a replacement until they could get you and your sister back from the Ragnakta," Sam said. Tya looked closely at Sam and suddenly frowned.

"Human?" she asked. Sam nodded and Tya folded her small arms across her chest. "Winchester?" she demanded.

"Uh, yeah, how did you know that?" he asked.

"This is _your_ fault!" Tya exclaimed. "Your brother and his father _they_ made her angry! _They_ captured my sister! As if it weren't bad enough the witch had _me_ working for her you Winchesters gave my sister to her on a silver platter!" Sam was stunned by the little Inshara's sudden about face of emotions but more so was he sorry. Sorry that his family had gone to such great lengths to try and kill a Ragnakta.

"I'm sorry," Sam sighed. "If I had known maybe I could have talked them out of it. Maybe…" He was cut off when he heard footsteps approaching. Tya went pale and backed all the way to the back of their cage as the steps got closer. Suddenly a face appeared directly in front of the cage door causing Sam to be startled and fall back on his butt.

"Sam Winchester," said the raven haired gray eyed woman from the gas station. "I'm not going to hide it, this is absolutely perfect that these pathetic little creatures turned you into one of them." Sam stood up and tried to look intimidating which was pretty much impossible considering his size and stature.

"You wont get away with this," Sam snapped. "Dean may have failed to kill you once but he wont fail again." The woman raised an eyebrow.

"That is what you think?" she asked. "Please Sam, if Dean and Daddy Winchester had failed to kill me I would have gone on my marry way and _you_ never would have been involved in this… little operation of mine." Sam felt like he was missing something very important and knew it wasn't going to be anything good. He tried not to look curious but couldn't help but take a step toward the cage door.

"So what did they do Salaya? Take away one to many children from you?" he asked. The witches eyes flared angrily.

"My name is Yalasya," she snapped. "Salaya _was_ my sister."

_Oh,_ Sam thought. _Apparently the sibling bound applies for Ragnakta's as well._ It made sense that the witch was pushed to revenge because her sister had been killed.

"Dean and dad killed your sister," he said out loud. "And so what? Now you're out for revenge?"

"Salaya was my _big_ sister," Yalasya snapped. "How would you feel Sam? How would you feel if I killed Dean, right before your eyes. If I shot him in the chest then dragged his body to a fire pit and destroyed it while you watched?" Sam felt a twinge of guilt, he wouldn't enjoy something like that at all. At that moment, Sam felt a strange longing for Dean that he hadn't felt in a while.

"You and your sister were killing children, real children _and_ people you had turned into children. There was no way my family could let you do that," Sam replied in defense.

"You humans it food to survive Sam, should I be defending my actions by saying you murder cows to eat steak?" the witch replied. "Besides we didn't take that many people, only a few here and there. Just enough to survive and your family _murdered_ my sister because we were living a peaceful existence. She was all I had left Sam, hunters like your brother and father took our parents so now, I'm going to take _you_." Sam felt the fear stirring up inside him and he back away from the front of the cage keeping his eyes on the witch.

"So what? You kill me and everything's even?" he asked.

"Oh no," Yalasya replied. "That would be _much_ to easy. You, my little winged friend are going to be insurance against your brother."

"My brother's not that stupid," Sam hissed. The witch shrugged.

"Maybe, maybe not but is the immortal?" she asked with a wicked grin. Sam finally let his trepidation show.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"You'll soon see Sam Winchester," the Ragnakta laughed as she walked away. "You will _all_ soon see." Sam quietly cursed to himself as he looked back to Tya who still cowered in the corner.

"We'll make this right for you Tya," he said. She looked up at him with an apprehensive look not showing any sign of believing him but not fighting the statement either. Realizing the little fairy wasn't in the mood to talk, Sam turned back to the cage door and surveyed the lock. Maybe if he had bigger hands and his lock picking gear he'd stand a chance of getting out to warn the others. But his hands were tiny and green and his lock picking kit was under his underwear back at Stanford.

"Damn it," Sam sighed quietly to himself. He leaned on the cage door an sighed, "I hope you're having better luck Dean."

Dean was going to kill. He didn't know what, he didn't know who, all he knew was that if he didn't kill something soon, he'd be forced to kill himself. He didn't remember much from his time being transformed back into a child but he did remember not being back to normal for more then a few hours when his little, _little _brother was spirited away from him by some bitchy voice in a Tornado.

He and his father's research had come back to him though, he remembered figuring it was a Ragnakta working with an Inshara because of missing hikers in the woods disappearing in a rather obvious pattern. Worse still was a week after the hiker went missing, a child would be found barely alive and in one of the surrounding counties. Some of those children had died and some had lived but Dean knew that none of them would ever be the same again.

So he and his father had gone to kill the Ragnakta and free any recent victims. That's where things started getting much, much more fuzzier. Dean could vaguely recall capturing an Inshara to draw in the Ragnakta and he thought they'd killed the evil creature but he was dazed and like many of his hunts had probably taken a header at some point so anything was possible.

But what mattered at the moment was that Dean was set to kill. Seeing Sam as a tiny green, extremely pissed off and very embarrassed Inshara had originally made Dean damn near wet himself laughing. All that had changed in an instant when the wind had picked up and he heard Sam's terrified squeaking voice call out to him, trying desperately to hold onto the bed spread.

Little fairy or little brother it didn't matter to Dean when he heard the terror in his brothers voice and was forced to watch as the little guy along with all the other Inshara's were swept out of the motel room like so much garbage. Dean had tried to run after them but the motel room door wouldn't budge. He wanted to smash the window but Bobby and Greg had stopped him from doing so insisting it would draw to much attention.

The door had finally come un stuck but by that point it was too late and the stolen fairies, _his_ brother were no where in sight. So Dean had fallen back into a chair, taken one look at his infantized father and started cleaning his guns. He might not have needed them at the moment, but he knew he'd need them soon and it also helped him think.

"You and John had to have found the Ragnakta's layer if you got close enough to get shrunk," Bobby said. Dean nodded as he jammed a cleaning cloth down the barrel of his favorite shot gun.

"I know that Bobby and I'm telling you I can't remember exactly where it is. All I remember is that dad had said something about heading north and I think we were in the parking lot of a camp ground," he replied.

"Well that's something," Bobby said.

"Except there's twelve camp grounds within the immediate surroundings of this town," Greg added. Dean paused his cleaning and looked up at the new comer. The fact that the man was who he was and had been so close to Sam for almost two years hadn't sat well with Dean at all. He didn't like the idea that there was nothing that could kill Greg. It wasn't so much that he thought Greg was a danger, if anything, Dean would still be a kid in Sam's Stanford apartment living room if it wasn't for the immortal but it made Dean think that if immortals were real beings, what else in the supernatural world couldn't be killed? How many things had he killed, thinking the world was safe only to have those things wake up, shake it off and move on?

Which brought him back to the Ragnakta. The more he forced himself to remember what he could, the more he became almost sure that he had killed her. It came in flashes and distorted memories but he remembered pulling the trigger the silver mixed with copper and gold bullets (the only way to kill a Ragnakta) rattling through the chamber of his gun, bursting out and successfully slamming into the witches chest.

She was dead, she had to be but then how in the hell had she taken Sam and changed him and his father into children?

"I'm guessing it wasn't your optimism that drew in a friend like Sam," Dean replied to the immortal. Greg gave a him a look.

"I'm just saying that the fool moon is going to be up soon and John and Sam will be stuck as they are now," Greg replied. "We don't have the time to check every camp ground we need something more."

"Well what do you want Masters? That bitch to phone us up and say, 'hi I don't want to cause trouble anymore here's where you can find me?' I don't think so," Dean snarled. "You're the one who's been around for hundreds of years, _you_ tell _me_ what we should do." Suddenly something hit the back of his head with a thud. Dean stopped his fuming and turned to see the tiny baby shoe that now rested at his side. He looked across the other bed where his father sat staring at him.

"Maybe he knows something we don't," Bobby said.

"Friggin' great," Dean huffed. "Three grown men, two hunters and one immortal and we need the help of a freakin' pampers toting baby soldier." Thud Another shoe hit Dean in the back of the head, this time a bit harder. He turned around, glad his father only had two shoes and raised his eyebrows. "What dad?" he asked. Damn it all if that little baby didn't roll it's eyes at Dean before fisting in the direction of the wall.

"Maybe there's something here," Bobby said looking at the wall of missing hiker articles. Baby John started gurgling and kicking his chubby legs harder.

"Dad seems to think so," Dean said motioning toward the baby. Greg stood up and picked up John who still for a moment but then started squirming again. The immortal carried the baby to the wall next to Bobby and held him out.

"Which one John?" he asked. He slowly started moving John along the lines of newspaper articles. Dean couldn't help but kick himself for not thinking of something like that sooner. Greg finally passed over one article that John started fussing so badly he nearly got himself dropped.

"Okay John," Bobby said reaching for the article. John immediately went quiet and was replaced back on the bed. "This article says three of the missing hikers in the last six years have all visited the Tully Campground which is… huh… which is just north of Wind Falls."

"Well there you go," Dean said snapping the upper receiver of his shot gun back into place. "Let's go kill this bitch and find Sam."

"Hold on Dean," Bobby said. "We can't go bringing your daddy into this situation, he'll get killed." Dean cursed, he hadn't thought about that little detail.

"So who stays?" he asked. It looked like Bobby was about to come up with a plan when Bad to the Bone started playing in the room. Greg smiled and pulled out his cell phone to answer it.

"Hello?" When the immortal's face morphed into confusion Dean grew wary. "Where?… When?… How do I…? … That's not possible… You can't… alright… alright I understand… yeah." With that he hung up the phone and put it away.

"What was that all about?" Dean asked. Greg was silent and looking off to one side almost as though he didn't even acknowledge Dean was speaking to him. Dean stood up sensing something was definitely amiss. "What is it Masters?" he demanded.

Greg finally shook his head and looked up at Dean and Bobby.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You two are on your own." With that the immortal turned toward the door without so much as an explanation why or where he was going.

Dean didn't even let the man make it passed the parking lot. Just passed the curb Dean got low, like his dad had taught him and tackled Greg hard. They both went sprawling to the ground and although there was a small bit of a scuffle, Dean soon gained the upper hand with a nine millimeter jammed into Greg's ribs.

"It wont kill you but I can keep shooting you in non lethal places until I get answers or you bleed to death and we start all over again," Dean snarled. "Who was on the phone and what did they say?" Greg looked into Dean's eyes as if assessing how much pain Dean would cause and how much he could endure. Finally it appeared he decided he didn't want to live out his days being tortured was not the way he wanted to go.

"She wants me to bring you and John to her cave," he said. "And I said I'd do it." Dean frowned and dug the gun in deeper.

"And why the hell would you do a stupid thing like that?" he growled.

"Because," Greg sighed. "She knows how to kill me… _permanently._" Before Dean could ask what the hell, he heard Bobby's surprised grunt from inside the hotel room and his father's brief but soon silenced wail. Immediately sensing danger Dean leapt to his feet and started back toward the motel room.

He never made it, suddenly he started feeling tired and thought he saw a bright light dance before his eyes before collapsing back to the ground. The last thing he remembered was Greg standing over him frowning sadly.

"Sorry Chester," he said with a sigh. Dean struggled, he fought it like only a Winchester could but even that wasn't enough.

"Son of a b…" And like that Dean was unconscious.

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Oh I'm cruel... ha ha ha, this cliff hangers eh? Someone's going to end up hanging ME!

Read and review as always please, gets me off my bum faster!

Stay tuned!


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